


No Boundaries Between Us

by bunnybethany



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Anxiety Disorder, Attempted Murder, Dean Has PTSD - Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder, Fire, Human Castiel, M/M, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-30
Updated: 2018-05-11
Packaged: 2018-09-21 00:41:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 7
Words: 26,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9523688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bunnybethany/pseuds/bunnybethany
Summary: Dean has been blind for most of his life, and has learned to cope with it. He starts to wonder how much longer he can cope with his disabled eyes when he meets a strange man at a bar, and learns he has a lot more to him than he lets on.





	1. Clicks

Chapter 1: Clicks

 

The soft click of the walking stick hitting the cold pavement echoed in Dean’s left ear as the sounds of the city ravaged his right. Two more alleyways before I take a left, then walk twenty- three clicks until I’m at Sammy’s. Dean thought to himself. The soft click became distant again when the echoing abruptly stopped as he walked past an alleyway, which meant an alleyway closer to his beloved brother.

The two brothers were the last of the Winchester bloodline besides their little brother, Adam, that they had lost contact with years ago and had nearly completely forgotten about his existence. Their father, John Winchester, had died from a car crash they suffered years ago, though they weren’t particularly sad to see him go, they were reluctant to realize he was truly gone and they were left alone. Their beloved mother, Mary, died shortly after Sam was born. Dean remembers that night so clearly even though he was so young when it happened. The sound of the giant flames kissing the ceiling lightly but violently, as if the fire knew the ceiling was fragile but was passionate enough to collapse it into ashes. His father had woken up the family when he heard Mary scream. She was next to the burning wire in Sam’s room when it quickly caught onto the nearby recliner. His father yelled Dean’s name over the roar of the fire.

Dean recalled the traumatizing moments to follow.

Little Dean woke up, the smell of burning flesh and plastic hit his nose for the first time in his life. The smell was putrid, so foul smelling Dean vomited when he sat up and pulled his comforter away from his nose. He sleepily but worriedly got up and touched his door handle. It burned his hand and that’s when Dean heard the cackling flames from the other side of his wall. He thought quickly and grabbed a rag his mother had left under his glass of water and used it to open the door. Sweat began trickling down his forehead and dripping off his short sandy hair. Black smoke clouded his view and his lungs. He coughed and called out for his dad. He could hear a weak cough to his right and a baby crying. Sammy, I gotta get Sammy. 

Dean felt a cold tear trickle down his cheek against the brisk evening air. The sun was going down. Dean could tell by the chilly wind and the slight warm piece of light resting on his forehead. It was beginning to get colder to the point his plaid, leather jacket, and black overcoat couldn’t save him from the changing weather in Kansas.

He turned left and started counting the clicks.

One, two, three... 

A tire screeched in the distance as an angry pedestrian yelled out swears.

Seven, eight, nine, ten...

Dean hadn’t heard the couple walking towards him. The pair didn’t exist to Dean until someone harshly bumped into his shoulder. He staggered to the side, trying his hardest not to stagger backwards or forwards so he wouldn’t mess up his counting.

“Watch it asshole,” a rough, deep voice said.

“Leave him alone Dick, you bumped into him on purpose,” a quieter, feminine voice said. Dean wondered how someone could love someone like that, but then again, everyone he had been with didn’t love him the way he loved them.

“Sorry,” the woman whispered and Dean finally noticed the click of her heels as they walked away. 

I’m doing this for you Sammy, all of it for you.

He straightened back up and picked up where he left off. 

Twenty, twenty- one, twenty- two, Sammy.

He turned left towards the dark, brick, city apartment his brother had found when he finished his studies at Stanford. Sam hadn't continued his dreams to be a big successful lawyer so he could support Dean. He tells Dean that he doesn’t regret his decision, but just hearing him say that sentence tells Dean that’s not true.

He raised his walking stick straight out in front of him and pushed into until it hit the door, knocking for him. Even though Dean was talented at many things, climbing even a few steps was not one of them.

“Dean! You made it,” he heard his brother yell in his deep voice. He clumsily made it down the stairs and grabbed Dean’s hand and put it to his arm to guide him up the steps.

“Tell me Sammy, when have I never made it.” Dean chuckled slightly as he stepped cautiously up the front steps.

“Wasn't it last year? You didn't want to ask someone the time so you accidentally took the wrong bus and somehow made it in New York?” 

“Shuddup Sammy, you promised to never speak of that again.”

“Jerk.”

“Bitch.”

Even though he couldn't see his face, Dean knew his little brother was smiling his cheeky grin that he wish he could see.

“Here I’ll take your coat,” Sam sternly offered once they were inside and helped Dean get his thick overcoat off. He hung it up but did it so silently Dean didn't know where his overcoat was at. But he didn't have to worry about. The inside of Sammy’s apartment was always warm, even in the summer. It always had this safe and pleasurable atmosphere to Dean that always warmed him up. 

“The table is set up already, want some beer? I have some cold ones in the fridge,” Sam said as he made his way back to Dean. He led him to the dining room and put Dean’s hand on his chair and went to the fridge to get two beers. Dean was overwhelmed by the smell of their Thanksgiving dinner. When they had lived with their dad, moving from motel to motel, they were lucky for their dad to be present during Thanksgiving. Dean would go out and try to get the best things he could at the nearest gas station with the little cash he had. They would eat whatever Dean brought back, usually muffins, sandwiches, chips, occasionally vegetables, and Dean’s all-time favorite, pie. Now, many years later, Dean was about to sit down to a big lavish dinner Sammy prepared. He could smell the turkey and ham and the cranberry sauce and green beans. There were even sweet potatoes, rolls, and stuffing. The smell of everything was so overwhelming Dean felt his throat tighten up a little bit. Sam put a bottle in front of him as Dean sat down. Sam picked up their plates and put small portion of everything on their plates before setting them back down. Dean reached his hands out cautiously towards his plate and felt around for his fork and picked it up.

“Do you want to pray?”

“No.”

The brothers sat and ate in silence which Dean didn’t mind but he could feel Sam fidgeting under the table.

“Hey Sammy, did you make this all yourself?”

“Oh, no no, Jess came over and helped to make sure I wouldn't burn the kitchen down. One thing I learned from dad was not to trust me in the kitchen.”

“Ha, well tell her she did a damn good job. Wow this is fantastic!”

There was a long pause and he knew Sam was about to be the caring Sammy he knew.

His brother sighed. There it is. “So how have you been? Haven't heard from you in a while.”

“Well Sammy it's a little hard to use technology and when I go to the library for someone to type a letter, most people avoid me, you know, for the looks.”

“But how have you been since, ahem, Lisa.”

Dean froze, his fork hovering slightly over his plate. Lisa and Ben, my other halves. And then they left me, left me because I was too difficult. Or couldn't help Ben do his homework, or drive Lisa somewhere when she didn't feel great. I had nearly forgotten about them.

“Dean?”

“Yeah well they don't really matter to me anymore Sammy. I've tried to forget about them, but they just make me feel useless. I can't do anything and I never have and never will. And I'm not risking a surgery just to see again. I can't help it that fire made me blind as I carried you outside. And until people see that, I'm done trying to find someone.” Dean was frustrated but all the emotions he bottled up and spilled over. “I'm sorry Sammy, I shouldn't be ruining your dinner.”

“Dean, listen. You aren't ruining it. You're my brother. And you aren't useless. Remember that one time you stole a bike and let me ride it? And then when I fell off you heard me crying and helped me up and put a bandage on my knee. Name another blind twelve-year-old who could do that.”

The tension in the room seemed to have disappeared as they continued sharing their fondest memories of each other. And before long, Dean realized they could barely breathe from laughing too much.

And before he knew it, it was late and dark and time to leave. Dean usually would just find a taxi that would take him to his house that was two hours away but sometimes he would have to find a bus. He attempted to help put his plate up and clean up with Sammy but he accidentally bumped into the couch and fell over. The dishes flattered and shattered across the laminate flooring. Dean was sure the floor was look like the night sky with shards of broken ceramic stars.

“Dean! Dean! Are you alright?”

Sammy rounded the corner and Dean was glad he couldn't see his face. He felt the vibrations through the floor of his younger brother rushing over to help him. Yet again. Why can’t I fucking do anything. I'm his older brother, I should be taking care of him. Sam grabbed his arm lightly and sat him up against the back of the couch.

“I'm sorry Sammy, I just wanted to help. I just hate being useless, you should go out and be the lawyer you want and have kids with Jess and not worry about me.” Dean crashed his head into his hands and pulled his knees up to his chest. Don't cry don't cry. Don't let him see how you feel.

“It's alright I don't mind really. I'll just have to get the broom really quick.”

“No, help me out, I'm going to get out of your way.”

“Dean-”

“Shut up Sammy! I don't want to hear it! Help me up and get my walking stick and coat and I'll leave.”

Dean outstretched his hand and waited for a response. What seemed like an eternity in tension, was only a few seconds before Sam took his hand and hoisted him up off the floor with one graceful movement. He didn't realize how tall and muscular his brother was until he reached out to “see” him. He ran his hands over his brother's chest and arms and up to his face. He felt his long hair that desperately needed a trim in Dean's opinion. He felt his brothers plump yet thin lips and nose and up to his closed eyes that he knew were filled with brightness and kindness even if Dean had never gotten the privilege to see what color they were. His hands lingered over Sam’s eyes.

“They are brown, by the way,” Sam said in response as if reading his mind. Sam stepped back and swiftly returned with Dean's overcoat and walking stick. He put Dean’s hand gently on his arm and let him past the fallen stars to the front door.

“Dean you really don’t have to go, it'll only take a moment to clean it up.” Sam pleaded as he stepped down to the last step before letting go of Dean's arm and releasing him into the cold dark air. To Dean, he was released into complete darkness, no warm connection or knowledge of being safe, just him being there.

“It’s alright Sammy, it's getting late anyways. Tell Jess I said hi, and give an extra rose to mom for me, will ya?”

Those were the last words the pair exchanged before Dean turned and started counting the clicks until he would turn the corner. He wasn't going to go all the way to the bus stop, but he decided he was going to go to the bar and crash at a motel if he is able to.

Four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten…

The cold bit at Dean’s perfectly chiseled chin. He was born with bright green eyes that his mother always said she loves, but the fire ruined them and turned them a light green and white, like marbles. Across his face but no lowers than his eyes, pink and white scars spread across his face like lightning that somehow made his damaged face even more beautiful. His nose was nicely pointed and separated his face symmetrically. His lips were plump and light pink, any girl would be jealous to see a man would have lips like Dean naturally. Dean was well built which seemed nearly impossible since Dean couldn't go to the gym unless he went with Sammy, which was extremely rare. His height was a little over five feet which was nothing compared to his “little” brother. The black overcoat enveloped his body like a soft cloud on a stormy day and kept him warm as he held his walking stick in front of him and walked blindly.

Twenty- three. Listen for cars, then cross and hope no one is coming. Then sixty- three clicks and then right. Then I'll be there. Dean flicked his wrist and his walking stick folded up. He felt around for the corner of the street and stopped and listened. A few dogs barked and a motorcycle went by but for several minutes, it was silent. His feet hit the pavement heavily and safely reached the other side though Dean stumbled when his foot hit the sidewalk mid-step. He straightened himself and steadied his cane in front of him to count the steps, hoping his stumble would cause a drastic change in his calculations, though he knew the music from the bar would be overwhelming he wouldn’t be able to miss it. He continued to walk steadily and could feel his hot, foggy breath retreat into his face when the could breeze blew in his direction.

One, two, three, four… A hoarse cough bubbled up Dean’s throat. Gusts of hot air blew into his faces against the breeze, brushing against his hot, horrifying scars.

Seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty, twenty-one… A drunk couple walks by. The young girl’s heels click heavily and unsteadily against the cement, her voice and giggles bubbly yet serious. The man had on nicer shoes, possibly a business man after a long day.

“Let me take you home, help you forget your day, and your wife.” The woman said. Dean could hear her sparkly jewelry and bare skin rub against the man’s stiff suit. The man took a short sigh and a tiny ringing sound sounded off behind him. The object rolled, and finally laid to rest. A ring, a wedding ring. “Don’t worry, I already have.” The two giggled and walked away.

Forty-seven, forty-eight, forty-nine, fifty… The music and shouts of the bar were getting closer and Dean knew it was time to put away his walking stick if he wanted to seem remotely normal in the bar. He came to a full stop and folded his walking stick and tucked it away into his overcoat. He took out a pair of sun-glasses ro hide his eyes. He continued walking, keeping his steps steady and even so he could keep counting without the clicks.

Sixty, sixty-one, sixty-two, sixty-three… The metal music was deafening to Dean, he wasn’t particularly fond of the music choices the bar owner made, but they had some of the finest drinks (and women he heard) there. He turned to his right and reach out his hand. A slight panic rose in his chest when he had to take a step forward before his hand connected with the cold, metal door handle. He pulled the door open and welcomed the overwhelming sounds and smells and feelings of the bar. He walked slowly at first then took a left. Men triumphed over at the pool tables while others groaned and slapped down their lost money to the winner. Dean didn’t pay attention to where he was going and his knee connected with a bar stool. He hopped up and felt the cool marble counter as if it was a long lost friend.

“Well I’ll be damned, Dean Winchester back here at Purgatory?” A familiar voiced rocked his brain with some of his fondest memories. Benny.

“Hey man, it’s been a while hasn’t it.”

“Been a while? My man, I haven’t seen you come in here for a single shot in months. Want your usual?"  
“Please, I’m dying to get drunk.” Benny turned around and got out a bottle of whiskey and a glass He filled the glass halfway and grabbed Dean’s hand and lightly set it on top of the glass. Dean’s head didn’t move, his whole body didn’t even shudder as he filled his stomach with the burning liquid within seconds.

“What’s been going on?” Benny leaned forward and tapped Dean’s hand twice, their signal for them being alone and it being safe to spill.

“What, I haven’t been in town for a month and everyone starts assuming I’m not fine? When have I ever not been fine,” Dean said as he flushed his newly poured glass down his throat.

“It’s been six months since the legendary demon Dean Winchester had been last seen here in Purgatory. I’d do anything for you, you know that. So tell me, what’s been keeping you away?” 

Benny leaned forward, his breath filled Dean’s lungs with comfort, even if it was thick with the scent of cigarette smoke and somehow blood. Benny had been Dean’s best friend for years, they made each other happy and stayed with each other through hell. Dean remember the day he got the long scar across his chest when he got a distressed call from Benny when his daughter died from cancer. Dean had struggled to get everything together and to even answer the phone. He ran out the door and was too shocked to ask for a cab he ran to the hospital but never made it. He never made it by foot. But by ambulance after he blindly stumbled into the street and was hit by a car he didn’t even know was there. 

Dean took a deep breath. “Lisa and Ben left. They left me and I-I don’t know what to do.” There was a long silence before Dean felt two taps on his hand, a pause, then two more. Someone is checking me out.

“Benny, I’m giving up, I don’t want some girl that likes my looks from behind but also my face. Someone who is loyal and stay with me and I thought Lisa would do that but she didn’t, so I’m done.”

“This one’s different Dean. Give them a chance.”

“Them? I know I may be drunk-“ Dean swallowed his fifth glass, “-but I’m not about to go home and have an orgy after a rough day on thanksgiving. Not happenin.” Dean swung his hand in front of his face for emphasis but it only gave emphasis that Benny should take the glass away from him. Benny filled up the glass and Dean inhaled it. He hesitated but filled it again.

“He’s coming over here by the way.”

“He? I’m not gay man I ain’t up for that stuff, leave it for the girls.”

Benny ignored him and continued. “He has dark hair, frisky hair, sticking out everywhere, but not in a bad way it gives him a good look. His jaw line his square, lined with a slight stubble. His eyes are so blue, like an angel’s. You know, he’s good-lookin’ for a guy and I don’t even swing that way. You know-“

Dean could feel a slight blush rising on his freckled cheeks. The slight heat felt like Dean had stepped into the middle of hell, and someone just gave him his first glass of water for forty-years. The slight heat was a drastic change in Dean’s depressing mood swings and thoughts, that he felt alive for once even with the slight pink making him vulnerable to people around him.

Keep it cool, just keep looking forward and no-one will notice. You don’t have to let them know.

”Shit.” Benny whispered. Without being able to see his face, Dean couldn’t tell if it was a panicked whisper or if it was an expression of admiration. He could never tell the difference in his best friend. He could hear a slight clicking sound on the newly polished wooden floor, but very faintly over the metal music blaring and killing Dean’s braincells.

Male, middle aged, pretty well built but not muscular, very fancy shoes, well dressed.

The footsteps came closer and closer until they were so loud Dean could feel his soul leaving his body in anticipation. Sweat trickled down his neck and bile sat in the back of his throat as he filled his stomach with more liquor and filled his mind with blurs and slurs. 

“My name is Crowley, I am Cass’s contractor. Well not really, I’m more of his bloody babysitter.” A man said from Dean’s right side with a rough, thick accent that Dean decided was between British and Scottish. His voice echoed in in the walls of his skull as Dean realized there were two people near him, not just one. The second person had approached in complete silence and was just a shadow, barely even anything in Dean’s mind.

“Any way’s, I’m here because Cass wanted me to tell you, you are stunning.” 

Dean froze. The word’s warmed Dean’s heart. He had never been called stunning before. It was always “hot”, “sexy” or “good in bed”. This was the first time someone had truly looked at him, possibly for how beautiful and vulnerable he was while everyone else either looks at him for his looks or his disability.

There were seconds of silence but on occasional scuffle from the two new men, either a scuffle in disagreement or understanding. A small airy “ow” could be heard from the man with the accent.

“He also said… you are beautiful and it’s amazing to see such a sight… how could you be sitting alone, with aura of beauty around you… May I buy you a drink?” Crowley said slowly, as if he was reading words from another language and translating it into English for Dean. Liquor burned Dean’s throat as he finished two more shot glasses.

“I’ve got enough fort tonight. Mmmaybe another time.” Dean could say. His brain and lips weren’t working together, the connection between them clouded with alcohol. Dean could hear quiet murmurs but without his sense of hearing on edge, he couldn’t tell if they were close or far, man or woman, or even quiet at all. He stood up and stumbled, his feet latching onto each other. A firm hand grabbed him across his chest and another on his right shoulder while his left arm gripped the bar counter for dear life. His walking stick fell out of his coat pocket and clattered in front of him. Fuck. Whoever was holding him up gasped but didn’t say anything. Dean grunted as he tried to move one foot in front of the other but they didn’t move at all. He could feel waves of nausea crashing into his chest and spilling over into his throat.

“Man, are you okay?” Benny.

“You don’t look so good.” Crowley. 

The man, Deans drunken mind finally put two and two together, helped Dean stand straight up. Cass didn’t remove his hands but Dean wasn’t sure he wanted him to. They were comforting and strong, and weren’t there to help him up stairs or cross a busy street, they were there because he genuinely cared about Dean’s well-being and not his self-image. Sounds and voices blurred into a remix as Dean sunk into the comfort of Cass’s arms and into the drowning and dark see of alcohol and memories.


	2. Indefinite

Chapter 2: Indefinite

Little Dean woke up, the smell of burning flesh and plastic hit his nose for the first time in his life. The smell was putrid, so foul smelling Dean vomited when he sat up and pulled his comforter away from his nose. He sleepily but worriedly got up and touched his door handle. It burned his hand and that’s when Dean heard the cackling flames from the other side of his wall. He thought quickly and grabbed a rag his mother had left under his glass of water and used it to open the door. Sweat began trickling down his forehead and dripping off his short sandy hair. Black smoke clouded his view and his lungs. He coughed and called out for his dad. He could hear a weak cough to his right and a baby crying. Sammy, I gotta get Sammy. 

He ran, he ran so far away from the fire and the coughing and the crying. He was scared. Sammy, Sammy. Little Dean paused, tears gushing down his soft cheeks in fear and from the thick smoke burning his eyes. He covered his face with his sleeve and ran back up the stairs he just got down. The steps creaked and groaned as it tried to keep the family together while being ruined by fire. Dean made it to the top of the steps. Sammy, Sammy, where are you? He went door to door, searching. His room, empty. Mom and Dad’s, empty. Sammy’s, screams. Little Dean screamed into the flames. He could hear screaming and sobbing. Suddenly a silhouette against the inferno appeared before Dean. His father came coughing and wheezing to Dean and shoved baby, silent, Sammy into his arms bundled in his yellow blanket. Words rushed past him. Get out, take Sammy with you, keep him safe. I love you, I love you. I’ll be there, wait by the car, mom.

Dean was nearly pushed out of Sammy’s room by his father’s protective arms and into the hallway that was now mostly on fire. Dean ran, holding Sammy close to his chest. He ran past his room and glanced inside. The wall he shared with Sammy was starting to crumble and the flames showed through. The fire so was so hot some of his plastic figurines were melting on his bed stand. His door fell off its hinges and Dean ran faster. He made it to the stairs and blindly ran down. The smoke was like a thick, scratchy blanket he couldn’t see through or barely maneuver through. He made it to the bottom of the stairs. His lungs screamed for air, fresh air that didn’t smell of burning flesh and plastic. He stumbled and tripped and got up. Stumble, trip, get up. Stumble trip get up. Get up. Get up get up get up. Dean was crawling on his knees and elbows, Sam outstretched slightly in front of him so he could move. Sammy, I’m sorry. I’ll get you out, I promise. With the last ounce of hope and determination in him, Dean stood up boldly and opened the front door. The golden door knob burned his hand but he didn’t care, he just wanted everything to be okay, just for everyone to be okay. 

He stumbled through the freshly cut grass. The night sky was a perfect setting for the burning house, the black blanket clashing with the bright flames. Dean looked down at Sammy; he had been silent since Dean woke up. Despite the chaotic and disastrous environment Sammy was in, he smiled back at Dean. He’s alright, but dad isn’t. Dean wrapped Sam’s blanket tighter around him and set him by one of the wheels of their Chevrolet 67 Impala. He turned around and bolted back up what remained of the front steps to the open front door. He reached the front door and peered inside the house for his father. Before he could blink, the fire exploded, the windows broke and doors flew off, and a giant ball of fire headed straight for Dean.

Dean woke up from his nightmare, drenched in sweat. His clothes from the previous day clung to the outline of his muscles. The blankets cushioned around him felt unfamiliar yet welcome as it rested against Dean’s bare skin. Dean’s eyes fluttered open, though there wasn’t a difference to Dean. The air was filled with a sweet aroma, like cranberries but sweeter. It was warm, but not too warm, both physically and mentally. His heart raced inside him, breaking his ribs. He stretched out his arms against the cool mattress in search for any familiarity. He started breathing heavily, his panicky breaths echoing in the room, the sheets scratching against each other. Dean knew he should be silent and focusing on finding a way to get out, not panicking and making noise. Bile rose in the back of his throat, and he swallowed vigorously to keep it down and furrowed his eyebrows together in attempt to stop the migraine penetrating his skull. Pained racket his head and he thrashed around, too afraid to move in case it pushed him further into danger. Footsteps echoed nearby and got closer and closer.

Suddenly a weight pressed down on the mattress. Dean thrashed around violently and moved as far away as possible. His head clashed against the wall and added more pain to Dean’s headache. Firm hands grabbed his shoulder, smooth hands with rough fingers tracing circles over his muscles. The movement was relaxing, comforting, and even though Dean was unsure of where he was or who was with him, he felt safer. His legs were entangled in the damp, cold sheets while his mind was entangled with the sensation of the stranger. Just the silent touch of the stranger sent chills up his spine. And then it was gone, the weight on the mattress disappeared and Dean was alone again.

“Sorry, I know it’s a new surrounding, but you’ll find your way around.”

A new voice. It wasn’t a voice he had ever heard before. He racked his brain to match it to a face but there weren’t any matches despite the stranger knowing he was blind. There was something terribly wrong with the voice. It was deep and raspy, coming from a man around Dean’s age, but he was speaking as if he couldn’t hear himself or had been mute for a very long time. Each syllable slurred together and each word was a different pitch. Some letters weren’t even spoken correctly, as if he just learned the alphabet the day before. 

Dean stuck his hand out in front of him to feel around the edge of the bed, and when he found it, he swung his legs off the side and sighed. He gently lifted himself off the bed and reached his bare toes to feel for the floor. It was cold and smooth, it made Dean shiver as he flattened his feet on the tiles and stood up. The tight gray t-shirt Dean was wearing didn’t bounce when Dean took a step forward with his hands outstretched towards oblivion. He quickly found a wall and walked along it until he bumped into the bed. He turned around, hand still on the wall and walked until he found a doorway and walked in. 

Please. God, don’t let this be a closet.

He kept walking, his fingers steadily tracing the wall, occasionally bumping a door frame. A fresh smell surrounded Dean. It smelled like sausage, cooking bacon, eggs and other breakfast items that made Dean’s mouth water. Suddenly the wall dropped off and Dean was thrown into complete and utter darkness. 

“Well good morning sunshine, someone finally decided to bloody wakeup.”

If Dean hadn’t wasted his night away with alcohol, he would have remembered the man’s name. Chris, Christopher, Connor, Cole… None of the names that came to mind seemed to fit, as if Dean had a puzzle with only one piece not in place yet nothing will fit in it. 

“Bloody Hell, you really are blind. Take two steps to your left, then walk straight forward, should be a table.” The man said again. Crowley, that’s his name. Dean took two normal steps to his left then walked forward. His hand bumped a chair and he grabbed the rim of it and felt around for the edge of the table. He slowly pulled the chair out and sat down, unsure of what to do or if that was what Crowley’s intentions were. Crowley started humming a song Dean didn’t recognize. The wooden table was full of pleasant surprises when Dean explored it. He would push his hand around until it clashed with a warm tray and he would pull it closer to him, smell it, then push it back. He found out there were many different choices for something to eat. Someone chuckled to the side of him. His hands smashed against the edge of the table as he quickly placed his hands in his lap, suddenly becoming self-conscious and aware.

“Where am I?” He asked, his voice small among the city noises.

“The biggest city in Kansas. Welcome to Wichita.” Dean felt his jaw tighten in dread. He was two hours away from the last known place he was at, and two hours away from his home. Panic bubbled inside his chest.

“Why am I here? Who are you? My brother’s a lawyer, and a damn good one.”

“Woah, calm down there. I’m Crowley, and that’s Cass. You passed out at the bar last night, your bloody welcome.” Crowley responded with a heavy dose of sass. Who names their child Crowley, or Cass? Memories came back to Dean, but they were choppy and none seemed to fit together. He remembers his visit to Sam’s and walking to the bar and meeting Crowley and Cass, but everything else was a blur. The clearest thing he could remember was sinking into Cass’s arms beside the bar. A slight blush rose to his freckled and scarred cheeks as the memory was put on repeat inside Dean’s thoughts, his heart racing faster than when he first met Lisa. He clutched his hands together in embarrassment for even blushing at the thought of another man. 

But this stranger, was different. Dean felt like he had known him for years, as if he had seen him before. This man knew he was blind, which isn’t particularly hard to find out, but also took him to his own home to care for, even though he was just having a hangover. Cass was different, somehow. Dean felt attached from a distance, something about the fingers tracing over his shoulder and something about how he caught him as he passed out, made it all seem familiar. His stomach growled and thrusted him back into the present. He moved his head around to motion for someone to explain what is happening, but no one did. A soft clunk Startled Dean so he moved his hand out in front of him to see what caused the noise and he found a ceramic plate with different things for breakfast. He bent down slightly and sniffed.

“It’s an omelet with a homemade hash brown on the side. I cut up some fresh fruits too.” Crowley answered. Dean felt embarrassed that he was caught sniffing his food, but he hoped they would understand that sometimes he would have to do crazy things in order to fit in or do something ordinary. He felt around for a fork, and slowly picked up his first bite of his meal. Right as the freshly cooked food hit his lips, he stopped. What if it’s poisoned. He quickly put his fork down, and rubbed his stomach.

“I’m sorry, I’m just not up to eating. Is it alright if you show me my stuff so I can get my navigator?” Dean said. His voice was soft and raspy, and all the color in his face drained made it easy for him to feign sickness.

“Oh, now I’m your maid. Fine, I’ll show you.” Crowley growled. He made his way over to Dean and held out his arm, grabbed Dean’s hand and waited for him to stand up. Dean slowly stood up, he didn’t want to seem as if He was about to attack to attempt to run away and find help and return to Sam to build a case. Because it was certainly not what he was thinking.

They made several turns and Dean wasn’t sure which hallway was which, or if he was even in a hallway. The flooring changed to carpet, then a rug on top of the carpet. Crowley stopped and took Dean’s hand, placing it on his belongings.

“Everything’s there, don’t worry. Nothing of yours is worth stealing anyways.” He said roughly then stepped aside. Dean fingered his way through the nicely folded pile of everything he had with him last night. He found his phone still in coat pocket and found his walking stick next to his coat. He grabbed it and unfolded it, feeling much more comfortable with it in his hand. He then put his flip phone in his pocket, keeping in mind that if the men wanted to successfully kidnap him, they would probably have taken out the battery.

“Is it alright if I can use your restroom.” Dean said sternly, not even making it seem like a question, but more of a demand.

"Yeah, I’ll take you there.” Crowley held his hand out again for Dean, but Dean pushed his hand away when he went to grab Dean’s hand.

“I can get it myself, I’m not helpless, just talk to me and I can follow.” He said. Crowley obediently stepped away and sighed.

“Fine have it your way then. I’ll still oh so politely let you use our tidy bathroom.”

“Thank you.” Dean said, returning the sarcasm. They started walking forward, Dean used his navigating stick to not bump into anything and found out there were quite a few things in the room Crowley helped him avoid.

“What’s your name?” Crowley asked harshly.

“What?”

“What, are you bloody deaf too? Good Lord, your name. What’s your name?”

“Dean. Dean Winchester.”

“A Winchester? Wow now we have a bloody Winchester in our house. Isn’t that amazing.”

“What’s wrong with being a Winchester.” Dean said. Whatever his next words were, would decide how badly Dean would beat the living shit out of him.

“Nothing. Your brother’s a legend here in Kansas. He’s really well known, once helped my mum out of some trouble.”

“I didn’t know that. Sam never tells me much about his job.”

“Well he should, some people consider him a big hero.”

“That’s comforting.”

“It should be, anyways here’s the bathroom.” Crowley said before knocking on a door. Dean felt bad and crumpled on the inside after treating Crowley horribly despite everything he had done for Dean.

He opened the old wooden door and stepped into the bathroom. Dean couldn’t tell if the lights were on or not but didn’t care, he just wanted to get out and back home. His head ached as he found the toilet and sat down on top of the closed lid. He hurriedly slipped his flip phone out of his pocket and felt the buttons under his fingertips. He slowly typed in Sam’s number, making sure he didn’t make a mistake. The phone started dialing and Dean started panicking. His breath quickened and his hands shaked in fear of possibly never making it out alive. He remembered watching a horror movie when he was little and being terrified of strangers ever since then, and even more fearful after he lost his sight.

Dean’s nightmare became true when Sam’s voicemail played. Dean silently growled and screamed in frustration. This couldn’t be happening, he survived everything he had been through and two strangers weren’t going to change that. He decided he was going to ask them to take him home so he could hopefully get away if they were caught off guard. He stood up and felt the counter of the sink and the wall to find the door. He could hear arguing from the other side of the thin door.

“Why did we bring him here? You can’t even speak to him! Your bloody mute and the only one here who can translate your sign language is me! I’m not sitting here for the next few hours translating your conversations.”

There was a pause of silence and some scoffs from Crowley but no reply. Cass didn’t speak and it all hit Dean at once. The voice he had heard earlier when he woke up sounded horribly wrong, as if the person couldn’t hear themselves or was mute. And the reason why Dean hadn’t met Cass yet was because their disabilities were constricting them both of contact and socialization. Deafness stole everything Cass had and thrusted him into a city of silence on a world bustling with noise. The world becomes clearer and definite when you must look at it at a different perspective, sometimes all perspectives, daily. Losing a sense, Dean realized, was somehow a blessing. After he lost his sight to fire, he noticed all his other senses heightened, and the world became clearer. 

Dean sighed and searched the door for a handle and opened the door. He used his walking stick to find his way back towards Crowley’s voice. It was hard to find his way around, the two had stopped arguing when the heard the bathroom door open. He followed the smell of the just cooked breakfast and nearly jumped around in glee when his walking stick finally connected with a chair after a few minutes of wandering around and bumping into walls that Dean didn’t even know existed. Dean clenched his empty hand on the edge of the wooden chair and wondered if there was anyone in the room sitting in silence.

“I would like to go home now.” He called out. After a minute passed, Dean thought about walking away and venturing outside and find a bus stop somehow. Then suddenly, he got a response.

“Okay. I can help.”

Dean froze, every single one of his muscles was frozen in awe yet fear. Cass was sitting opposite of him at the table and had been watching him. His voice cracked and still was slurred and at different pitches, but it didn’t matter to Dean, somehow, just a simple response from him made him relax and feel safe.

“Can you take me to the nearest bus stop that will take me to Lawrence.”

“Sure. Let me tell Crowley, then I’ll take you.”

“Okay, I’ll be here, wherever I am.” Dean chuckled. He heard a soft, shy chuckle from Cass and then silence. Dean never heard Cass leave and was tempted to make conversation with the stranger when he heard Cass again.

“Ready?” 

“You have no idea.” Dean chuckled again. He didn’t want his fear and uncertainty show through to Cass, he was still unsure about this whole situation of ending up at their house. A soft hand grabbed his arm and lightly tugged him. Dean folded his walking stick and held it in his hand as Cass led him around small obstacles to what Dean assumed was he front door. Cass placed his hand on the pile of his belongings and let go. Dean put on his heavy overcoat and tucking his walking stick in the inside pocket and put his shoes on, not bothering to tie them but instead tucked the laces inside the shoes. He put his wallet in his back pocket next to his phone and his father’s hunting pocket knife in the other. Dean felt around the small table for any other items he might have carried with him and decided that was all he needed after feeling nothing. HE stood up straight and Cass lightly took his hand again and opened the door. The city noises hit Dean violently, cars honking and pedestrians yelling and laughing seemed unusual to Dean. He had always thought Kansas was a quiet state, but he had always stayed within the safe and familiar borders of Lawrence. The big city, Wichita, was different from Deans cabin in the middle of a peaceful section of woods away from everyone else, despite Sam’s protests for him to live closer to a town or little city in case he was in trouble, but Dean had proved he could live out in the middle of the woods and be fine. The secluded cabin was Dean’s safe place, he had everything he needed and wanted there. He didn’t know what it looked life, he left Sam to the painting and choosing furniture if it matched. The silence surrounding the cabin was Dean’s favorite part. Even though he needed sound to get around sometimes and to detect dangers, he enjoyed walking out a few steps away from the front door and standing there in complete oblivion, as if he was in a dimension full of people that never even existed. It was much different than the bustling, shouting city Cass lived. Dean didn’t understand how anyone could sleep through the noise and commotion, but then again, Cass didn’t have the best ears in the world. 

They walked a few minutes in silence and awkwardly holding each other to navigate. Dean would tug Cass out of the way of someone approaching from behind or the side and would avoid animals he could here before Cass could see them. And Cass would lead Dean through darkness, avoiding cars and fire hydrants. Dean found he didn’t have to focus so much on how many steps he was taking or when he would need to check for the side of a sidewalk, he put all his trust and Cass that he would make it safely to a bus stop and hopefully home before dark and the criminals stalked the alleyways. 

“What time is it?” Dean asked, realizing he didn’t even know what day it was. Cass kept walking and Dean abruptly stopped. Cass kept walking for a second then stopped and faced Dean. Dean asked again “What time is it?”

“About 5:00.”

“In the morning?”

“No, in the evening. You slept for nearly twenty-four hours. I’m quite impressed.” Cass said and continued walking. The air seemed a little lighter after they broke the silence and barrier between the two of them.

“So what are some things to know about you?” Dean asked casually, he decided he didn’t like the silence even if he usually kept to himself.

“Like what.”

“I don’t know. Maybe first of all, why did you take me home.”

Cass chuckled and Dean could feel a [positive change in his body posture as he relaxed. Dean moved slightly closer to Cass to be able to listen closer and decipher his sometimes-jumbled words. “The bartender called an ambulance, said he didn’t know if it was serious or if you just passed out. The ambulance came, said you needed a good rest, so we took you home. The bartender, I think Benny was his name, said he didn’t know your brothers number off the top of his head.” Dean thought about his answer. It seemed to make sense but the whole situation seemed to be apart of a dream, it was the first, and hopefully last, time Dean was taken in by a stranger at the bar that wasn’t for some sex. Dean stayed quiet, unresponsive, so Cass continued the conversation.

“What’s your name?”

“Dean.”

“Your last name, I know your first.”

“Winchester. Dean Winchester. What’s yours?”

“Novak. Castiel Novak. But my friends call me Cass. Well, Crowley calls me Cass.” Dean frowned. The way Cass’s voice drooped made Dean’s heart break. He had suffered through years of loneliness due to his disability and Cass had too. He felt a connection between their pasts even if they had never met.

“Where do you work, if you do.” Dean asked, curious to how someone who was missing a vital sense could work.

“I used to be a nurse. I was a nurse here at the hospital for five years. Then I got a heart disease and my hearing faded to nothing. Now I live with Crowley, he pays for rent.” Cass explained. Ever since Dean was little, he noticed that if someone listened close enough, you could hear different parts of the bodies. He could tell when someone had butterflies in their stomachs based off a few words or they were hurting, their whole body seemed to ache in each syllable. The most distinctive and common to Dean was heart ache. It had a deep sound, not necessarily in in pitch, but more of an echo of emotions. He heard this in Cass. He heard it in every syllable. Every breath. Every heartbeat. Everything about him seemed to beat at the same broken pace of heart ache. 

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, I don’t like pity. God took away my hearing for the greater good, and I am willing to see what he has in place for me. Besides, it’s been a year since I was fired.” Cass explained. Dean was an atheist, he didn’t believe, or want to, in an invisible force that was there for the greater good. He always groaned when Sam brought him up in casual conversations.

“I used to be a mechanic, I worked on old cars. I would come home every day covered in grease and sweat.” Dean said, reminiscing his earlier years before Sam moved out and Dean moved into the small cabin.

“That’s amazing, especially using your available senses.”

“Well, I’ve been blind for most of my life, it just comes to me naturally.”

“I haven’t been deaf my whole life, but I was mute until I met a girl in college. We were both studying medicine but she moved away to take care of her mother.”

“My little brother Sammy met a girl in college. She’s studying medicine too.”

Their conversation went on and on and the city noises faded into the distance until Dean was convinced they were the only two people on Earth. He felt comfortable around Castiel, he didn’t know if it was their similarity, or if they just got along easily being opposites. Castiel was more of a calm, wise angel. Dean was more of a badass, black leather drunk. Castiel’s favorite thing to do was read, he loved to imagine existing with the characters and always connected with him. Dean couldn’t understand what it was like to read, but he told Cass about music and described the different emotions that came with it. Their deep conversation nearly caused Dean to miss his bus back home.

“Music just has so many different elements, the lyrics, notes, the emotions. I guess you can say it’s how I connect to people, like how you connect to characters.”

“That’s the thing Dean. I wish there was a world where I don’t need to read a book to feel accepted into our society, or you don’t have to listen to music constantly to feel like someone understands you. Many people in this world would look at us and turn their head the opposite direction, not wanting to even look at us or breathe the same air we breathe. People look at us as if we are toxic, or different. I want to be in a world where I’m not limited to hobbies, people, or places. I want a world where things are… indefinite. Just like you and me. We are indefinite.”

Dean thought about his words all the way home, and laid in bed listening to Cass’s voice resonate in the back of his mind.


	3. Crash and Burn

Chapter 3: Crash and Burn

 

Everyone gets the one phone call that rips their heart apart. Dean received it early in the morning on November 2, 2005. The morning blurred together. One minute Dean was talking to a devastated Sam and stepping on broken glass to sitting in a hospital waiting room, unsure if he was even on the right floor.

It had been a month since Dean was with Castiel and Crowley, but Cass’s voice and touch was forever engrained into Dean’s brain. His fingers tracing circles over Dean’s shoulder to calm him down kept tracing circles even though Dean was deep in the woods. He woke up from a sleepless night, he couldn’t find his phone and felt every inch in his house for it until he gave up and laid in bed, worried about a possible intruder of if someone needed him. He heard his phone ringing Eye of the Tiger, his ringtone for Sammy. He jolted up and walked around his house without his walking stick, listening to the volume of the ringtone to tell his distance from his phone. He opened it and knew something was wrong.

“Hey Sammy! What’s with the early call, I normally don’t wake up for another hour or so.” Dean said, smiling and chuckling. He wanted to seem carefree and happy to hear from his brother although he was still tired. There was a long pause on the other end of the line.

“Hello? Sammy? Are you alright?” Dean became worried. His brother was the talkative one of the two, and it was unusual for him to be silent during a call and extremely unusual for him to also call so early in the morning. “Sammy, talk to me god dammit. What’s going on?”

And that’s when Dean heard it, a small whimpering sob. He knew his little brother was crying, sobbing. He had heard it before, years ago when Sam was a freshman in high school. He heard his little brother, his other half, crying in the motel bathroom, sobbing the night away until it was the early hours of the morning. Dean sat down on the opposite side of the door until he knew Sam was asleep, unlocked the door with a bobby pin, and found his brother curled into a ball on the cold tile floor with fresh streaks of tears on his cheeks. Sam had been crying about his mother, the mother he never met and blamed himself for her death. Dean noticed as Sam got older and understood more things, the more he blamed himself. His logic was that it was his room, his lamp that caught a spark on his chair that killed their mother. After that night, Sam’s sobs were very distinct to Dean, and he decided he never wanted to hear that ever again. And he never did, until that morning.

“Dean, I-I… I need you to c-come here.” Sam whispered between sobs. Dean froze, tears streaming down his cheeks, entangling with his scars. He stumbled and leaned on his couch, fear shaking his knees.

“What is it Sammy, tell me.” 

“It’s Jess. She-Sh… She’s gone, Dean. She’s gone.” Sam barely finished his sentence before he was engulfed in sobs and an ocean of tears. Dean could hear the heartbreak in his brother’s voice. The sound echoed in the chambers of his own heart, shredding it to pieces with it’s low, rumbling texture. It traveled between Dean and Sam as they sat there, sobbing on the phone just like the night they sat on opposite sides of the door sobbing with each other. Dean pressed the phone against his cheek, silently looking into nothing but replaying memories he had of Jess and Sam. He remembered the late Halloween party they had at a bar with other college students. That was the first night he saw Jess. She let his hands roam her face and described herself. 

“My eyes are blue, but I’ve heard they are kind of a blue hazel, especially when I’m concentrating.” Jess told him as he passed her eyes and felt her eyelashes. She had long lush eyelashes and didn’t wear mascara, giving Dean the impression that she was naturally beautiful. “I have blonde hair. Sam likes it when I add some extra curls to it.” She said. He remembered feeling the slight waves in her hair and finding her ears and feeling for earrings. He basked in her beauty and was extremely happy for his baby brother to bring home a beauty like her. And the best part was her heart. That same night, Dean was jumped as he walked out the bar an hour after he saw Jess. He was completely sober, but lost to the three men who stole his wallet and left him beaten, bruised, and bloody on the pavement. Jess persuaded Sam to take him to their apartment and care for him, saying it would be too overwhelming for Dean to be in the packed hospital. She helped carry Dean even though she was in a revealing nurse outfit, being cat called by drunk men passing by.

That moment, Dean knew he loved her. He didn’t romantically love her, but he loved that one day, she would be the mother of hopefully his nephew or niece, the wife of his little brother, and a new, caring addition to the family of two. Her heart was bigger than Earth itself, yet Earth took her away.

Dean didn’t move the rest of the day. His stomach growled but Dean’s emotions were too overwhelming where everything he had ever experienced all seemed like a dull pain, less than a cat scratch. Waking up in the hospital after the fire, screaming for his mother and Sammy, clawing at his bandaged and burning eyes, was only a small bruise to Dean. 

Dean didn’t know what time it was when he finally stood up, ready to face the world and whatever it brought with Sam. He stood up and nearly slipped on his own slick blood. He accidentally dropped his glass of water he had grabbed on the way over to the phone. He had forgotten he had it when he heard the devastating news. There was blood everywhere on his wooden floor. He knelt and felt his feet. There were shards of glass everywhere, littering the floor like the way stars littered the night sky. He couldn’t tell what was his own blood and what was water, so he stood back up and started limping away, keeping his hand on the edge of his sofa. Tears and blood mixed on Dean’s hands as he wiped his vulnerability off his cheeks and left a smear of crimson in its place. Dean made it to the end of the couch but memories of Jess distracted him and he leaned onto nothing, losing his balance and falling to the floor. He let out a frustrated yell, a painful yell. It echoed back to Dean and he yelled again and again and again and pounded his fists on the floor until they bled. He stood up quickly and threw his light glass nightstand across the room, satisfied with the sound of the glass shattering against the wall. He threw a lamp and heard it clatter against everything else in the room. He yelled in anger and despair and threw as many things as he could get his hands on.

“Why did you pick her?! What’s the point! You take people who don’t deserve it! She didn’t deserve it! You son of a bitch!” He yelled. He repeated his swears to the God he didn’t believe in. He yelled everything his heart told him to, ignoring what his brain was attempting to say. Each word had the heart wrenching tone of heartbreak and anger. Sobs mixed with his words, making a fluent language Dean was used to, the language of anger, heartbreak, despair, loneliness, always feeling like he deserved every bad thing in his life.

“You can do whatever you want to me! Take my eyes! Take everyone I care about! Take my heart!” Dean picked up a heavy chair, sorrow fueling his actions, and hurtled it towards the direction knew his TV was. They connected and shattered together, colliding and breaking upon impact the same way the news collided with Dean’s heart. “But you hurt Sam! I swear to God I will kill you if you ever hurt him again!”

Dean walked backwards until he found a wall, and sunk down to the floor. Shards of glass were embedded in his feet, but Dean didn’t care. He cradled his scarred and tear soaked face in his blood covered hands. The broken and destroyed room mirrored how Dean felt on the inside. He screamed and yelled and sobbed for hours. Some minutes he would be apologizing to Sam, others he would be yelling curses at God and pounding his fists into the air or on the floor. The physical pain he was in was no match for the emotional pain that racked his body with sobs. He remained there for the rest of the day, embraced in memories of Jess.

The next day Dean sat in the waiting room of the hospital, unsure what floor he was on. His leg bounced with anticipation to see Sam. He knew he needed to be strong for his baby brother, but he wasn’t strong enough for just himself. Every few seconds he would brush away a stray tear. Every few minutes he would have to reassure a nurse he was alright even though his shirt was dirty and covered in blood from the previous day. When the taxi cab dropped him off, the nurses were kind enough to bandage him without charge and walked him to the cafeteria to eat something. Now they were scattered on the floor and rarely spoke to Dean, leaving him alone in his dark world. 

“Dean?”

His head shot upwards. He knew his brother’s voice anywhere. He stood up, voices flooding from all directions as he tried to depict which direction he heard his brother from. Sam engulfed Dean in a massive hug, sobbing into his shoulder as he bent down to Dean’s height. Sam wailed as his soul left him along with hers. Every permanent remnant of her in Sam’s brain was punishing him for falling in love with the kindest and most beautiful young woman alive. His muscular hands clawed into Dean’s shoulder but his pain furrowed into Dean’s heart. Tears poured down his cheeks and onto his brothers’ shoulder that was already soaked with his own tears. The loss of their best friend rocked their world with a powerful tide of grief and loss. Even though Jess was gone, Dean could feel her warm presence in the room, but fading fast into pain. He realized her eminence was radiating off Sam. They loved each other and had planned to spend the rest of their life together, no matter how long or short their hearts would beat. They had become one being together. It was never Jess with Sam or Jess and then Sam. It was always Jess and Sam after they had met in one of their classes on accident. Their souls were intertwined but were slowly tearing apart as one was moving painfully on.

“We-W-We haven’t done… done it yet-t.” Sam sobbed. Each word he choked on as if they personally were taking his air away and slowly suffocating him.

“Okay. Okay. It’s okay Sammy, it’s okay. She would’ve wanted you to, she would have wanted you to keep living even if it meant without her.” Sam wailed a little louder at his brother’s truthful words. Dean remained calm for his brother during the hardest moment of his life.

Five minutes later they were sitting in a hospital room. The monitor peeped and the machine keeping Jess alive beeped and pushed air into her lungs rhythmically. The room smelled of death as her loved ones huddled around her like reapers waiting for her precious soul to finally let go. Dean’s hand rested on his brother’s shoulder who was sitting in a chair by her side. He could feel trembling mourn racked his body of energy and love. Dean was glad he couldn’t see his best friend and his brother’s soulmate wrapped almost from head to toe in gauze to protect her burns from infections even though the infections wouldn’t affect her.

A soft knock on the door caused Sam to stand up quickly wiping his face of any evidence of grief.

“Are you Mr. Winchester?” A man asked. Dean could hear the flip of chart papers and patient files and a pen clicking and a laminated ID bouncing against a crisp lab coat and scrubs.

Sam cleared his throat. “Yes, I am, uhm, S-Sam and this… this is my brother Dean.”

“My name is Dr. Morano and I am so sorry we had to meet on these circumstances.” Dr. Morano shuffled a little closer. “Jess suffered severe burns on eighty percent of her body and suffered from severe head trauma to her temple. We are amazed she could stand and help the other family. I-“

“Wait, what do you mean ‘help the other family’. I was told she died in the car accident, in her car.” Sam said. His voice trembled but stayed strong for the love of his life. Dean recalled what his brother had shared with him about the accident. Jess was at an intersection on her way to Sam’s house when she was t-boned by a giant grey truck holding a family of four. The husband was driving and going twenty miles over the speed limit. He ran through the red light just as Jess was crossing. Her small white car didn’t stand a chance and was demolished upon impact even before it rolled over twice and resting upside down. They were told Jess died upon impact, the truck hit her side head on. The wife was recovering fine and the two kids weren’t harmed. The husband went into surgery and was now in a recovery room with a tub down his throat and two police at his door. Sam grabbed Deans hand, thrusting him back into the present he didn’t want to be in. He wanted to be sitting at the bar when he first saw Jess or back at the Christmas the three of them sat around the Christmas tree and opened gifts. That was when Jess changed Dean’s life when she gave Dean his first and very own sight-seeing puppy. He had forgotten about his dog at home and hoped she had enough food and water until he got back. He never named her, he wanted Jess to have the privilege to name her but Jess always insisted for Dean to name her. They called her “Little Dog” although she was now a four-year old German Sheppard. He now knew that even though Jess left them, he would have a part of his friend back home.

“The police first told us that seemed to be what happened, but the crash and burns…” The doctor sighed and sniffled. “She didn’t die upon impact. Witnesses say she climbed out of her car despite her injuries and helped the family that hit her, out of their car. After everyone was out, she went back to the truck, screaming to help get the baby out. That’s when the truck exploded, resulting in her burns. I’m so sorry, but she died a hero.”

“Oh my god…” Sam whispered. He squeezed Deans hand tighter. “Did they get the baby?”

“There wasn’t a baby in the truck. We believe it was her head trauma causing her to start to hallucinate.”

Dean heard his brother gasp with disbelief and shock at the new story.

“Mr. Winchester are you aware of her family situation?”

“Please, call me S-Sam. And…yes.”

Sam’s nails were practically tearing Deans flesh. His brother suddenly started to waver and hyperventilate and Dean struggled to catch his brother as he fainted into his arms.

“I-I can’t! I-I I can’t end-d her life-her life!” Sam yowled as he curled up into a ball in Dean’s arms, his hands twisted in Dean’s leather jacket and misbuttoned shirt. His big strong brother now seemed more fragile than newborn as his weeps unsettled Dean and his screaming cries echoed through the hospital halls. They cried, clinging to each other for support and some type of clarity and comfort.

“Sam, hey Sam listen to me. You need to calm down. I know it feels like your world is tearing apart and you don’t know what to do, but I need you to calm down, it’ll only make It worse.” Dr. Morano said soothingly. He then placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder lightly. “My god… I’m so sorry. Take care of your brother. When you need us, call for a nurse and we will help you.”

Dean nodded slowly in understanding and pulled Sam closer to his chest. He slowly pushed himself backwards, using one hand to crawl and the other to keep his little brother in his lap, until he bumped against the wall opposite of the body of Jess. He leaned back and stretched out his legs, letting Sam’s legs drape over his and his head to dig into his collarbone. The scene of the brothers brought together the image of what her hospital room looked like. Jessica Moore was the only Moore left. Her mother passed away a few years back and her father had been in and out of jail since Jess was just ten. She was the only child just like her mother and her grandparents had passed many years ago. She didn’t keep in contact with much of her father’s family besides her aunt, but she had been in Japan for the past two years. The popular, pretty Jessica Moor was now a broke, bloody, gauze covered Jessica Moore without any visitors besides Sam and Dean. The brothers clung together for life as their best friend lay on the other side of the room dead with unnecessary tubes forced down her beautiful throat that once sung to Sam or Dean when they had a nightmare. Her hands were penetrated by multiple IV’s that didn’t need to be there in the first place that once soothed Sam and Dean and carried Sam when he was drunk and handed Dean his sightseeing dog. Her skin was covered in bloodied gauze that Dean once felt ad discovered she was naturally beautiful.

He remembered the night he first saw her and fell in love with her. He could see her as the best sister-in-law he could ever imagine and couldn’t wait for Sam to develop with her over the years and begin a family the way Dean knew he never could. He wanted Sam to be happy with her for the rest of his life and he loved that Jess was the woman Sam chose. And everything he loved about Jess was gone forever. And he knew that what he was feeling, was worse for his baby brother.

They sat there cradling each other on the cold hospital floor for an hour when Sam finally sighed and spoke up.

“I have to do it Dean. I can’t let her stay here. Not this room, not this place. Just not here. She has to move on.” Sam sat up a little bit, still being in Dean’s lap which reminded him of when he once put a band-aid on Sam’s knee and watched a movie Dean stole. “I’m ready.”

They helped each other up and Dean felt around for the door and walked into the hallway. He kept his hand on the wall and walked closer to loud, clustered voices.

“May I help you?” A young woman asked.

“Yes, are you a nurse?” Dean asked, staring straight ahead not knowing where she was but also hoping he didn’t look suspicious being stiff and staring straightforward.

“Yes I am. Do you need help to your room?”

An arm gently grabbed Dean’s arm but it gave him an uneasy feeling.

“No, I’m not a patient. My friend- Jessica Moore- came in early from a car crash. She’s on life support and my brother decided. I was told to find Dr. Morano when we were ready.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’ll page him. Let me take you back. You said Jessica Moore.”

“Yes ma’ am.”

The nurse led him back to his room and placed his hand on Sam’s shoulder. She stayed in the room and he heard her shuffle and rummaging through things in the corner next to the monitor and the machine keeping Jess alive.

“Thank you, Dean.” A quiet whimper.

“Anything for my little brother.” Dean whispered back. Silent tears streamed down his cheeks and he prayed they weren’t splashing onto his brother and drowning him.

“Are you ready?” Dr. Morano asked, it sounded like he had just walked in.

Sam took a very deep breath to prepare. Dean felt him shift and pull something out of his pocket.

“Can, you give us a minute?” He asked quietly.

“Sure, we’ll be right outside the door. Take your time.” He said and he left with the nurse.

“Would you like me to leave?” Dean asked, patting his brother’s shoulder affectionately.

“No, please stay. I-I can’t do it by myself.” Sam replied. His voice sounded strained but he wasn’t crying. Dean could feel him relax and he leaned a little forward.

“Hey Jess.” Sam chuckled lightly, but it didn’t lighten the mood for Dean as he listened. “I just wanted you to know, that I…I-I love you. And it’s okay that you can’t respond because I know you love me and you always will. I’m not mad you didn’t make it for dinner, it’s alright at least we get this moment to spend together.”

Sam sniffled. He had started crying but was smiling through it. He chuckled a little bit before continuing.

“Hey, I uhm… I heard what you did out there. That you helped the family. God, you’re so amazing I love you so much. Th-the family is doing well. You saved them. I thought you would like to know you saved them, you’re a hero. Ha, I know you’ve always wanted to be a hero, to save people every day but you’re still in med school, I just wanted you to know you didn’t pass without saving someone.” Sam sucked in a deep breath. “You’ve done more than save them.”

The last sentence was a very quiet whisper and Dean felt the sobs beginning to wrestle through his brothers fighting body.

“Y-you saved me, Jess, you saved me. And you saved Dean. We lost everyone and then you came. You and Dean bonded and you… you became the love of my life. You were so kind, and so beautifully gorgeous, I couldn’t stay away from you. My world was filled with lonely heartbreak until you came. I finally had someone to wake up next to even if it was in the middle of the night after a nightmare. You had my back and I had yours. I could cry on your shoulder and you could cry on mine whenever you wanted to. I know you thought you were bothering me but baby it never bothered me. You never made me mad, you never annoyed me. You were perfect. That’s why I asked for you to come over. I’ve thought this through and I’ve known for a while that you’re my one and only love. I want to spend the rest of my life with you and have kids, three. Two boys and a girl. Gabriel, Michael, and Anna. And we could live in a two-story house closer to the school and city with a freshly cut yard and a white picket fence just like you’ve always wanted. I asked you over tonight, because Jessica Moore… will you marry me?” Sam said. He could barely say his wish before he was engulfed in a loud wail of utter pain. Dean could barely keep it together as he sobbed into his hand, trying to stay quiet to let his brother finish.

“I am so sorry Jessica, I never meant to hurt you. If it wasn’t for me, you’d be alive and happy and I would be putting a ring on your finger tomorrow morning at school and you would say yes and we would be looking for our perfect house for or perfect kids for our perfect life. I’m so sorry I-I k-k…killed you. Just wake up. Please? Jessica wake up please wake up for me so I can hear you say you love me one more time. That’s all I want, just one more time.” Sam sobbed as he slipped his engagement ring on her slender pale finger. “Please say it. I just need one more time.” He whispered. He was now in a full-blown mourning spell, wailing words incoherently to Jessica asking her to wake up, to just say ‘I love you Sammy’ one more time. 

But he knew that would never happen as Dr. Morano and the nurse came in and everything came crashing down at once. A numbness slowed down Dean’s world, spreading the last aching seconds with Jessica into an everlasting eternity of heartbreak. His brother got up, trying to fight the nurse to get away from her, to not touch her. Dean wrapped his powerful arms around his brother.

“It’s alright. It’s okay I got you. We have to let her go, we have to. She can’t stay. You can say it, you can say it one more time before she goes.” Dean whispered into his grieving brother’s ear. His brother struggled against his arms to be by her side one last time but Dean didn’t risk it and held his mourning brother tightly against his chest as he mourned too.

“I love you! I love you Jessica please I love you. Please just say it one more time. I love you, I love you, I love you…” His brother wailed. His knees gave in and Dean sank with him down to the cold floor, holding his brother, holding the memories of the three of them together, holding the tears, holding in the anger and sadness and nausea. Dean imagined Jess laid down in a beautiful meadow by a clear stream, flowers blooming and intertwined with her wavy blonde hair. He imagined her voice echoing through the air telling Sam ‘I love you’ one last time as they watched her body disintegrate peacefully away.

But instead she was trapped on a hospital floor. 

Sam repeatedly yowled out for Jessica to wake up and that he loved her.

The words echoed down the hallway and into Dean’s brain as the heart monitor let out a long, monotone ring as if it was mourning for their loss too.

"What would I do without you?" Sam whispered, barely audible over the heart monitor. Dean waited for the usual response but she was gone and he would never hear the answer ever again.

Crash and burn.


	4. Dead

Chapter 4: Dead

 

The funeral was that Saturday. Dean didn’t cry a single tear throughout the whole service and burial while his brother was like a living waterfall. They were now all drinking sparkling wine, some drinking heavily others taking sips between tears. Dean stayed in the corner with Jess, his sightseeing dog who was slowly adjusting to her new name, leaning against the cold wall trying to avoid any contact. He had stayed close with Sam the whole funeral, allowing him to sob on his shoulder and hold Jess in his lap for comfort and something to hold on too. Now his little brother sat with everyone else who was still mourning and waiting for cars or waiting for friends. The room had an eerie silence to it that nearly pushed Dean to the edge of insanity if a friendly stranger hadn’t said hello. Jess stood up and wagged her tail, making a low whining noise. Dean knew someone was walking towards him from his left. He turned to the way Jess was indicating someone approaching. 

“Heel, Jess, heel girl.” Dean said, rubbing his temple with his thumb. The trained German Sheppard sat down patiently but there was still tension from her end of the leash. He stepped forward until he felt her bushy tail brush against the bottom of his neat jeans.

“Dean?” A voice asked. It was quiet, as if it didn’t want to disturb the tension and grief hanging in the room like a thick curtain. The familiarity of the deep rumble in the man’s throat hit Dean in the chest, a feeling he never felt before.

“I’m sorry, who are you?” Dean asked, stepping forward a little bit to be next to Jess.

There was a pause and Dean wondered if the silence swallowed the man up into oblivion like the rest of the people still in the room. “I’m sorry, you probably don’t recognize me. I’m sorry for wasting your time, I’ll be on my way.”

“Wait.” Dean said. He started walking forward and Jess stood up, leading the way to the man. When Jess stopped, He tenderly reached his hand out until it connected with a thick trench coat. He moved his hand across the broad and masculine chest. He felt an unbuttoned suit and a tie that was on backwards. He followed the tie up the man’s neck, feeling his collarbones on the way up to see his proportions more clearly. His neck was lean and a little scratchy with a short stubble near his chin. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed nervously, lifting his head higher as if Dean could see his confidence. He felt his chiseled chin and his cheek bones that Dean lingered on. He felt the man’s lips and felt how soft they were as they parted slightly when Dean’s thumb brushed over their soft surface. He felt his proportionate nose creating a line of symmetry. His eyes were closed but had long thick lashes that were curled slightly but not enough to make Dean worry if beauty products were involved or not. His eyebrows were even and as thick as his short bedhead hair. Dean moved his hand back down to the man’s cheek and lingered there as is heart quickened and he was certain he was going to vomit.

“Cass?” Dean asked quietly. Jess’s tail thumped happily against his leg and he could hear her panting in excitement.

“Yes, that seems to be my name.” He responded. There was an awkward pause before Dean shuffled back slightly and dropped his hand down to his thigh and rested the other on between Jess’s ears.

“What are you doing here?” 

“I came for a funeral.” Cass responded calmly.

“I’m so sorry, we recently, uhm, lost a friend too. A good friend.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. Me and her were good friends at the beginning of our medical career. Well the first years of our medical school. I stopped after I became a registered nurse but she went further and we went separate ways.” Cas sighed. His voice was like thick honey drowning Deans consciousness in serenity. 

“Heh, that’s funny. Well not really I mean it’s awful but it’s a very unlikely coincidence.” Dean flustered. “My best friend that passed away was studying medicine. In fact, she died a hero, helping the family that hit her.”

“I’m glad she died doing her passion.” Cass responded. “I’m gonna head out, though it was nice bumping into you.” Dean heard light footsteps walk away.

“Let’s go Jess. Lead.” Jess stood and started walking towards the door. Suddenly, a firm grip on his arm stopped him dead in his tracks.

“What did you say?” Cass inquired.

“Uhm… my best friend passed away a hero-“

“No after that.”

“I was talking to my dog but I just told her to lead.”

“What’s her name?”

“Jess. Well until a few days ago her name was Little Dog but now it’s Jess. In memory of my friend.”

There was a sharp gasp from Cass and his hand let go. Dean could hear tears plopping onto his heavy trench coat, the heavy-duty material nearly protecting him from the mournful and dead rain.

“That was her name.” He whispered. His thick honey voice was now drying up to sweet drops of sadness.

Dean stood shocked. It all made sense. Cass mentioned he was a nurse until he got sick, and Jessica was still studying at school for medicine. Jess had wanted to be a doctor or surgeon, Dean couldn’t quite remember the big complicated words she recited with ease to show off.

“What?” He whispered back. Jess tugged slightly on the leash to his left and he turned a little bit, embarrassed for speaking to nothing.

“Jessica Moore. We were best friends in med school.” Dean reached out to the grieving stranger and found his trench-coat between his nimble fingers then grasped it firmly. He pulled Cass into a strong embrace. Two strangers with barely a day worth of memories with each other were now sobbing onto each other’s shoulders. Dean had to bend over slightly to match Cass’s height, though it wasn’t much of a difference. Jess sat beside Dean and licked his knee then laid her head down on his thigh still looking up at him. The young German Sheppard licked her lips and wagged her tail, waiting for a command and a little anxious of a stranger touching her human. 

“I’m sorry, I’m usually much more composed than this.” Cass said, pushing Dean away but not rudely. Dean backed away hoping his tears had soaked into his skin or Cass’s coat and weren’t glistening among his scars for the whole violent world to see. He looked down and rubbed Jess between her ears, her favorite spot to be scratched.

“Are you, uhm, waiting for someone to pick you up?” Cass asked quietly. Dean’s heart quickened, expecting Cass to continue and ask him on a date though he knew he wasn’t gay. He shook his head.

“Sammy is driving some friends home and I’m taking a cab back home with Jess. I’m just… still trying to absorb everything still I guess.” 

“I can drive you home. You know, if you want.” Cass suggested. The world froze at that exact moment. The whispers from across the room ceased into an endless ocean of lost boats. Jess stopped shuffling beneath Dean’s hand and every thought through his head seemed to have been obliterated. His heart sped up and is breath got caught in his throat.

“Sure, I’d like that. You don’t mind Jess do yah?” Dean asked, bending down to one knee to stroke her fur and to hide his blushing.

“No, I don’t mind at all.” Dean turned away from Cass and stood up. He whispered in Jess’s ears to lead and made his way over to Sammy.

“Hey Jess, hey girl. Come ‘ere.” Sammy said. Dean could hear Sam twist around in his chair. There was a slight jolt in the leash and Dean knew Jess had jumped up into Sam’s lap.

“I’m gonna head out, go home and get a beer.” Dean said quietly and followed Jess/s leash and tenderly placed his hand on his brother’s shaky shoulder. Sammy deeply sighed and nodded.

 

“I’ll walk you out to your taxi.” He whispered and gently lowered Jess down to her paws and stood up.

“That’s alright, I’m getting a ride from a friend.”

“What friend. You don’t have any.”

“Shut up, a new friend.” Dean said, blushing slightly and wishing that the fire had damaged his skin to the point his blushing wasn’t visible.

“Ooh, a new friend. Tell me about her, she pretty? Have ya’ll slept together yet?” Sam said, surprisingly giggling.

“Considering he’s a guy, no.” Dean said and gathered up his dog’s leash in his hand. “I actually found a friend.”

“Oh, well, ya’ll have fun. And thank you Dean, for everything.” The last sentence brought tears to Dean’s unseeing eyes as he felt his brother’s burly arms pull him into a strong embrace and stroke his back in an affectionate gesture. The reluctantly pulled apart, exchanged goodbyes, and parted ways.

“Jess, find the door.” Jess turned to her right and led the way to the door. She sat down and placed her paw on the glass, letting Dean hear the slight thump and help find the door handle. He started to push it open when a hand wrapped around his and pushed the door open and held it for him to walk through.

“Right this way sir.” Cass said playfully. The dreary day brightened for Dean and he walked out of the funeral home with a bright, beaming smile as Cass led him to his car and helped Jess and Dean into their seats. Jess laid down, painting in the backseat with her harness off for a break. Cass buckled his seat belt and waited for Dean to buckle his before turning the key in the ignition. 

“So which way when I get to the end of the driveway?” Cass asked as he inched the car forward. Dean could feel the loose gravel popping underneath the tires and the bigger rocks causing the small car to occasionally rock to once side.

“Right. I live in Lawrence.” He responded, his voice skipping when the car bounced.

“Lawrence?” The tone Cass used sounded somehow like sarcasm, disgust, and flirtatious all at the same time.

“You have something against Lawrence? It’s better than Wichita.”

 

“Have you ever heard of civilization? Wichita has a lot of it.”

“Have you ever heard of peace and quiet? Lawrence has a lot of it.” Dean replied chuckling. He smiled into the distance, turning his head towards Cass. He fidgeted with his seatbelt, the uncomfortable piece of fabric rubbing against some of his faint scars on the edges of his neck. He felt comfortable. Not physically, the little car was compressing his tall legs and he kept pulling his seat belt away from him. He was emotionally and mentally comfortable. Cass was a friend he had always wished for and he was confident that he would never leave him. They sat there in the tiny car cracking jokes and telling their life story and telling how different the world was without their hearing or sight. Jess occasionally would poke her head over Dean’s seat and would rest her head on his shoulder, licking his face. Every now and then she would bark for attention and Dean would blindly stretch his arm backwards and pet her.

“And that’s how I met Jess.” Cass sighed as he told the story of when he first met Jess.

“Wow, she stood up for you against jocks. That sounds exactly like her.” 

“Yeah, she was great. She was my one and only friend and a very good friend at that. I could tell her anything and she would listen. She would even talk to me without me starting the conversation. That was…unusual to me. Yet, I loved it. I never had anyone like her throughout my whole life.”

“Your whole life? Come on, you had to have somebody.” Dean scoffed. He remembered his fingers tracing over every beautiful inch of Cass’s face. He loved the way his hands could perfectly cup Cass’s cheeks. He thought he would have girl’s and boy’s flocking to sit next to him in class. But he didn’t tell Cass this.

“No. No one. I was always an odd-ball. I was the lonely kid who sat by themselves and never had a partner during projects. Kids just thought I was weird. My name comes from the name of an angel. My parents were strictly religious. They noticed that I, at a young age, was different. They tried different things to get me to change but none of that helped. I constantly changed schools when I brought someone home to play with or do homework with. My family had money, a lot of it, so sometimes I went to private school, but none of it worked.” 

“Why did your parents do that? You were just bringing friends home. There’s nothing wrong with it.” Dean said. Anger rose in his chest.

“Because I’m gay. My parents, well my dad, noticed this when I was young. I talked about a boy at school that I liked. He didn’t approve at all, he hated it. He forced me to move out with my older brother when I was sixteen. He hates me that bad.”

“What about your mom?”

“I never met her. Dad never talked about her either so I’m not sure who she was. I would always imagine her with long brown hair and the kindest heart who didn’t hate me for who I was. That’s how I survived my father was with my image of my mother at night.” There was a long silence as the memories settles back underneath Cass’s skin and left I’m uncomfortable. “What about you? What’re your parents like?”

Dean sat there and thought. He loved his mother but didn’t have any solid memories with her besides the night he remembers every day when he goes to sleep. His twisted skin burned and the smell of smoke filled his nose and his eyes teared up from the heat. He had to blink several times and turn his head to remind himself he wasn’t in their old house that was now a pile of ashes. The head died down and the smoke lifted.

“My mother died when I was four. There was a spark from an old, chewed wire in Sammy’s room. It just…combusted so fast, she didn’t…she didn’t get-t out.” A sob strained his voice but no tears swelled at his eyes. “My dad told me to take Sammy out and I set him down outside in his blanket near our dad’s car. I ran back in to help Mom and that’s when the house exploded. It took my eyes, my mother, and my dad’s life. He ran out the back door and escaped the fire. Since then we have been constantly moving, my dad a drunk. Sometimes Sammy would have to drive without even knowing what a permit was because our dad couldn’t see straight. When I was old enough, I took Sammy out with me. He was fourteen, I was eighteen. We took care of each other and worked our asses off whenever we could so he could go the college. Dad never wanted him to go to school, said he was too much of a nerd and could never have been his son. Sam went anyways with some scholarships and is now a lawyer.” Dean explained. He sat there, looking straight. He felt Jess’s wet nose brush his cheek and her sloppy wet kisses across his eyes and nose. He chuckled and scratched her cheeks. Suddenly, a car honked close by and at first Dean panicked and then smiled.

“That’s Bobby. Me and Sammy moved here first and he helped us out. Whenever we moved away he would keep in touch with us. He’s our father now.” Dean smiled. He felt the door handle and quickly followed it up to glass and waved. “On your second right, turn there and keep going until you see a little cabin.”

The car turned a few seconds later and the car rocked with the familiar gravel Dean had grown to love. At first it was too much for Dean to handle, throwing his other senses off balance when he was eighteen and freshly moving into the world with little Sammy holding his hand. Now it was like breathing to Dean, something he didn’t realize was there until he thought about it. 

“You’re not going to murder me… are you?” Cass asked quietly, slowing down the car. Dean looked around confused for a few minutes and realized he was leading Cass into the middle of the dark woods to a little cabin.

“Oh no no. Me and Sammy moved here first to get away from our dad. Figured a place he would never go would be the best.” There was an unsure ‘ah’ from Cass and the car inched forward before going to its previous speed. Dean counted to sixty.

“It should be right here on the left.” He said, looking in the direction of Cass or his left.

“You live… here? In the middle of nowhere?”

“Yep. We both did for a little while. And I’ve got Jess, don’t I?” Jess jumped up at the sound of her name and spun around in the back seat before patiently waiting at the car door to assist Dean. He chuckled and brushed his hand over the car’s smooth interior leather until he found the nearly hidden door handle and opened the door. The cold brisk air rushed into the warm car and it Dean harshly through his thin clothes. His long black trench coat was open and was useless against the dark, violent woods. He stood up, keeping his hand along the door and stumbled to the back door. He took a little longer to find the door handle. A smooth hand was already there and Dean stood straight up. He was inches away from Cass’s face. He hadn’t heard him slip out of the driver’s side and walk over to the passenger side. Cass’s breath blossomed across Deans face and filled Dean with warmth. Their hands lingered together on the car door and they stood together.

Kiss him. Kiss him. Kiss him.

Dean coughed and backed up, allowing Cass to let Jess out. That moment had sent dean into a spiral of confusion. The way Cass made him feel confused him but he was certain he wasn’t gay. Then again, all the girl’s he had been with were just for the night until he met Lisa. He never had any real feelings towards them. Even with Lisa, his heart didn’t beat as fast as it did when he was around Cass and his cheeks didn’t blush when he thought of him. He looked down to hide his face and was greeted with Jess standing to his left. He put his left hand on her harness and grabbed her longer leash with his right.

“Find the door Jess.” He said. Jess started walking through the gravel, leading Dean towards the door he didn’t need help finding.

“I’ll walk you to your door.” Cass whispered in Dean’s ear. He gently held Dean’s elbow in his hand as they went up the small front steps to Dean’s porch. The old wood panels groaned under their heavy-duty boots and the door squeaked as Jess stopped and placed her paw on it. Dean praised her and unlocked the door with the key he kept around his neck. He slid the door open but it stopped halfway open. Dean kept shoving on the door until it finally gave way and opened. Broken glass and wood and furniture and porcelain clashed together on the other side of the door. The door was wide open and Cass gasped.

“What… What-t happened?” He asked quietly.

Dean, not daring to step into the dead house, responded, “Me.”


	5. Blue Skies

Chapter 5: Blue Skies

 

It had been two days since the funeral and the ride home with Cass. Dean woke up to the sound of shattered glass moving across the floor. He sat up, tangled in his sheets and damp with sweat and tears. He slowly swung his legs over the edge of the mattress and leaned forward until his toes touched the cold wooden floor. He stood up fully and stretched his arms above his head, letting out a slight groans his shoulders and back popped. Cass and forced him to stay in bed until he cleaned up the little cottage, which Dean didn’t fight. Cass led him to his bed and brought him food and drinks around meal times and held Dean when he walked in on him sobbing. The routine helped Dean recover from not grieving at Jess’s funeral. He slowly walked out of his bedroom, rubbing his face and temple. His feet were killing him, every step he took sent a sharp pain up his legs. 

He limped into the living room, cautiously brushing his toes in front of him before taking a step. The shattered glass scraping the floor was louder and Dean could now hear a broom against the floor, sweeping up shards of broken wood and glass and porcelain. He wondered if Cass had seen his blood smeared across the floor from when he stepped on his broken mug after Sam called him. He reached out his hand, fingers outstretched looking for something Dean needed. He stepped forward until his hand met the now familiar trench coat. Cass jumped away, gasping. Dean paused and lowered his head down but kept his hand out. Cass chuckled and took Dean’s hand into his own.

“Your awake. And it’s still morning.” Cass said playfully.

“I heard the glass you were sweeping.” Dean tightened his fingers around Cass’s, lowering both of their hands to Dean’s side. Cass led him slowly around piles he had swept the past two days and into the kitchen. The smell of bacon and eggs and freshly brewed coffee warmly invited Dean despite his grogginess. The cold tiles felt refreshing against his cuts beneath his bandages. Suddenly there was soft, short fur brushing against his other hand that rested limply against his side. Jess licked his hand excitedly and bumped against Dean repeatedly until he stopped and ran his fingers between her ears.

“Sorry I woke you, I didn’t realize I was being loud. It just sounded like very quiet scratching to me.” Cass apologized quickly. He took the coffee pot and poured Dean and handed it over to Dean. Dean followed the sound of the coffee mug hitting the counter and reached his palm out in front of him until he felt the hot steam above the cup. He lowered his hand onto the rim of the mug and brought it closer to him as he sat down on one of his bar stools. He prayed his kitchen looked hallway decent. He decided he wanted marble counters with black cabinets and black bar stool, but he couldn’t decide what color he wanted the walls to be.

“Hey Cass, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, anything.” Cass’s voice rumbled. It’s deep and serious tone was hypnotizing and soaked Dean like a thick honey.

“What color is the wall? Above the counter over there.” Dean pointed to his right.

“Hot pink, why?”

“I’m gonna friggin’ kill- “

“Woah, calm down there. I’m just messing with you. It’s green.” Cass said. He leaned closer towards Dean, the smell of his cologne made Dean think things he never thought he would. “Like your eyes.”

Dean sat there, unaware of what the color of his eyes were after the fire. He could barely remember what he looked like as young Dean, unscarred by the fire and what life had to offer him. His short sandy hair would occasionally fall in front of his eyes. He remembered his freckles, little constellations across his cheeks he once tried to stay up and count, but realized he couldn’t count higher than seventy-six. But he knew now the scars contorted everything into something a twisted monster would look like, something that needed to stay in the shadows.

“It’s a beautiful color. It reminds me of the beauty in everything, even through the tortures it’s been through. It’s the color of a meadow full of life that grew over an old battlefield. It reminds me of what you’ve been through, yet still contain the beauty you have.” Cass whispered. Though the words were jumbled and hoarse, they reached Dean perfectly. His heart skipped a few beats and the breath was sucked out of Dean’s lungs. His skin tingled down the back of his neck and his hair stood up on his arm. The sensation was a refreshing coolness followed by a relaxing and exciting warmness that Dean had never experienced before, sending pins and needles underneath his skin. Cass’s breath was now brushing softly against Dean’s ear. “Like how I’ve been through so much and still managed to be in the same room as someone as gorgeous as you.”

It took every inch of power for Dean not to reach up and kiss the stranger. His heart urged him to lean forward but his mind told him to stay still and conceal any feelings he had towards anyone. He bent his hand down and lifted his coffee to his lips, hoping the steam would be blamed for his red cheeks and teary eyes. The scorching liquid burned his tongue, but he didn’t care, the slight burn was nothing compared to the waves of nausea and confusion that rocked Dean’s body. His heart raced but he didn’t put his mug down until every drop of coffee was gone.

“Were you thirsty? I could have brought you water.” Cass chuckled. The bar stool next to Dean’s shifted and squeaked as Cass sat down and leaned back. Cass brushed Dean’s left arm slightly when he reached for his own mug filled with something Dean couldn’t decipher. Dean chuckled back before he could finish his last swallow and choked on the bitter liquid. He leaned forward, coughing and hacking until finally he looked up and felt Cass merely centimeters away from him. 

Fuck. So much for covering the blush.

“Are you okay? You’re acting a little weird. Is it your foot?” Cass asked worriedly.

“I’m fine. Just not used to someone here at my house.” He replied between pants.

“Oh I can leave if I’m making you-“

“No, no. Stay. It’s nice. Just different. But a nice different, ya know?”

“Your something different Dean Winchester. But a very nice different.”

Before Dean could open his mouth to respond, something crashed in the other room. Dean could hear the ceramic vase shattering and sending splinters across the aching floor, just like the night he went to Sammy’s and had first met Cass. The walls groaned as it’s insides twisted and turned and ached. Dean had left nearly nothing untouched in his grief-stricken rampage. It was as if a tornado had collided into Dean’s cabin but had left the walls untouched. But that was impossible, because the skies were blue.

Cass jumped and gasped sharply as the tiny ceramic stars skittered across the dark wooden sky. Dean felt his hand shoot up to his head, clutching the side of his face tightly and holding his breath. Cass reached his other hand around and grabbed Dean’s arm as he slipped off the tall stool. He let go, grunting and ruffling his already ruffled hair, and waddled over to the crash-site. Jess sat up and panted against Dean’s leg and eventually went off to follow Cass. The sound of a broom scraping the floor made Dean uneasy. The simple sound sent nerve racking signals throughout Dean’s body. He stood up and walked into his living room, counting the steps until he turned a corner or avoided a nightstand that survived. He could hear Cass panting. Hard.

“Cass? Are you okay?” Dean asked, tilting his head. No response. “Cass? Cass?”

“I-I’m… h-here.” Cass responded lightly between pants and coughs. Dean stepped forward two steps and put his hand out for the couch. His toes touched the edge of Cass’s trench-coat and were relieved to get a break from the cold, harsh wooden floor. He sank down the back of the couch and sat next to Cass, his arm wrapped around Cass’s and his knees curled up to his chest.

“Are you okay?” Dean asked again.

“I’m fine. I’m still new to the Cochlear implant. Noises don’t sound the same as they did when I could hear. It just startled me, that’s all.” His breathing was slow and steady. He leaned slightly into Dean, breathing in and admiring everything about him. Dean turned his head toward the vulnerable man that stole his breath whenever he heard his footsteps.  
“That’s not what I meant.” Dead added lowly in a hoarse voice.

“I have a Cardiovascular disease. It’s difficult to tell which one it is specifically or if it’s a newly developed disease or even an evolved one. But it’s untreatable right now because the wrong medicine could kill me.”

“Wait, are you dying?” 

“I’m not as of right now, but I lost my hearing because of it. Somehow the circulation was cut off to my ears, causing me to become deaf. Also, anything that makes my heart race or go above my normal heart beat just makes it worse. I get dizzy and confused. I’ll get nose bleeds, sometimes bleed from my ears. It’s hard for me to breathe and my legs and arms clench up and I can’t feel them. It just… happens.”

Dean sat there, feeling Cas’s pulse speed up as he shifted. Dean could feel Cass’s gaze. It wasn’t a harsh stare or harmful glance, it was soft and warm, and comforting. It was so light s if it was a dazed butterfly brushing past a flower, two beauties with separate intentions that still crossed paths. He knew Cass’s beauty was far better than Dean’s own, even without sight to aid Dean. The way scars twisted Dean’s face made it impossible for him to see any beauty at all. But Cass, Cass was a different story. He was gorgeous from every touch to every breath. Dean thought to himself, fuck it if I’m gay, he’s perfect.

“Are you alright?” Dean asked, tilting his head towards his left hand as if he was staring at it while his right hand was occupied holding Cass’s arm as if it was the last time Dean would feel that man in that trench coat.

“I-“ Cass never finished that sentence, and Dean wish he had. The door-bell rang, a loud and pounding annoyance Sam had installed. Cass jumped slightly at the noise, bringing his hand up to his Cochlear implant to block the noise. Dean stood up and reached his hand down to Cass for help but hadn’t realized Cass was standing next to him as if he had teleported. The doorbell rang again, and again, and again. 

“I’m coming!” Dean shouted at the impatient visitor. He lifted his hand up and met Cass’s. Cass led him through his living room, his feet bumping piles of dirt or glass that were swept neatly into piles. The soles of his feet ached as a painful reminder from the night of losing Jess. He felt the soft fur of his dog brushing against his hand as she rushed to the door, whimpering to let Dean know someone is there in case he hadn’t heard the first time. Cass stopped abruptly and there a small series of small clicks and then a loud creak as the heavy wooden door slid open. The cool wind from the oncoming rain settled into the warm house, chilling Dean. The only piece of skin that was still warm, was his hand enveloped in Cass’s, each crevice of skin felt like it was glowing and radiating with intense heat. The heat became overwhelming and Dean quickly broke his hand away to get a break from the heat. He was now completely cool; Cass’s warmth had disappeared but there was now what felt like a block of ice in Dean’s chest where his heart should have been.

“Hello, are you Sam Winchester?” A woman said. There was a slight northern accent tinting her smooth angelic voice.

“No, but this is Dean Winchester.” Cass answered in his deep and scratchy voice that made Dean’s insides flutter. Both voices had a soft tone to it, as if they were born in the same city but grew up in different parts. 

“No, no. I’m looking for Sam Winchester, specifically. The lawyer.”

“Sorry lady, he doesn’t live here. In fact, you might be able to find him an hour and a half west of here in Manhattan.” Dean cut in. His tone was serious and drowned out the casualness of the conversation and coated it with tension. Dean didn’t need to see to know that the strange woman had stiffened and tightened her lips together. 

“I don’t like the tone you are using young man. My name is Naomi. I’m looking for Sam Winchester who is wrongfully doing a case against me.” She stepped a little closer to the door frame causing the patio wood to creak. “I wouldn’t test me.”

“I think you should go. I told you my brother lives in Manhattan. I don’t know anything about your case but I know my brother, and he wouldn’t do a case against anyone who wasn’t guilty”

“That’s it-“ Naomi raised her fist, cutting the breeze and making a whipping noise. Cass shoved Dean quickly behind him, nearly making Dean stumble into a swept pile of glass. He waited for the crack of a fist meeting a nose but it never came.

“Everythin’ alright here boys?” An older, Scottish infected voice butted in. Rowena, thank god. 

Rowena was Dean’s Scottish taxi driver. Rowena knew of Dean’s disability and had exchanged number with him so he could easily get a ride. She knew all of Dean’s favorite spots and was even willing to drive two hours for Dean to see his brother if he missed the bus.

“No, not at all, just a lovely little time that’s all.” Naomi replied with an innocent tone, nothing like what he had heard a few seconds earlier. Dean moved closer to the door until he felt Cass’s trench coat and then gripped the coat tightly in his hand out of fear. Warmth flooded back through his body the longer he touched the fabric. Suddenly Cass had wrapped his hand behind his back and was now intertwining his fingers with Dean’s. Dean could feel a slight tremble in Cass’s hand.

“I think you should leave.” Dean repeated, standing straighter to hopefully seem braver than he really was. The only thing keeping Dean rooted to the ground and from shaking was Cass.

“You know what darlin’, you can get in that taxi cab right now, and maybe I’ll think about dropping you off where you want to go and not three hours away.” Rowena said. Dean had learned over time that Rowena terrified him. He considered her a friend but her history of “witchcraft” but an eerie edge to her and always haunted Dean. He didn’t personally believe her “magic” was anything more than hypnosis and herbal teas but the way she spoke in detail of rituals made it seem true. 

Cass stepped towards the door, hiding his hand behind him still. Dean felt the floor change from the polished wooden planks to the old planks he called the patio and he felt the air change from the warm filtered air to the bare and crispy air that came with the woods. He Naomi grunt and two pairs of footsteps go down the three steps attached to the patio. Two car doors opened and slammed shut. An engine rattled to life and pebbles and twigs snapped under new tires rolling away. The sound of the engine idled off into the distance and faded into the distant sounds of the city.

“Do you get that often?” Cass asked, pleasantly breaking up the startling silence.

“No, that’s never happened before.” Dean answered back. The only time anything like that had happened had been when Ben had been charged with assault while trying to break up a bar fight and Sam was defending him. Ben had dropped by to see if Sam was there but it was nothing compared to the unsettling stranger Sam had a case against. Dean had met most of Sam’s clients and all had been proven innocent, so if Sam had built a case against someone, Dean knew they must have done something and be guilty of it.

“Are you okay? Dean?” Cass asked, moving their hands in front of him and cupping his other hand over the two’s. Dean moved a little closer for the comfort and the warmth.

“Yeah, it’s just weird that she knew where I lived. Well I guess Rowena thought she was looking for me. My brothers never really had a case against someone, mostly just defense cases.” Dean explained. Naomi had left a dark and cold presence in the house and in Dean’s life. 

“I wouldn’t fret over it too much. I’ll stay here with you if you want, be your pair of eyes if she worries you.” Cass suggested. Dean wished he didn’t have to use a creepy woman as an excuse to ask Cass to stay, he wanted him to stay to make Dean feel something again, for Dean to feel something he had never felt before. He wished he was brave enough to tell Cass that, but remembered how he had clutched the back of Cass’s trench coat to stand up against Naomi. 

“I want you to stay.” He heard Cass sigh and shift a little bit.

“And not because of Naomi.” He continued. “I want you to stay. I need you to stay. I need you to stay… I need to figure out why I lose my breath when your around or when I feel high when I touch you. I’ve never felt it before, but I like it.” Dean explained. It had come out much differently than he had planned it in his head and he put his chin on his chest to hide his embarrassment. Cass’s hand reached up and brushed the side of Dean’s face, his fingertips tangling in his hair and barely touching his ears. Cass brought Dean’s head up to meet his gaze though Dean couldn’t even see what color his eyes were. 

“I feel the same way.” That was it. That was all the Castiel replied with. Dean felt as if he had poured his heart out to say those few sentences and felt rejected by those five words. He wanted to forget the moment.

“It seems like it’s going to rain.” He replies softly, his voice barely a whisper.

“No, actually the complete opposite.” Cass said in a matching whisper. Dean could feel his hot breath against his cold lips and wanted so badly to feel that warmth in his lips. Cass continued, “The sun is out, casting a nice shadow on the trees. It’s that perfect part of the day where it isn’t too early to be dewy but it isn’t too late for it to be blistering hot. The flowers are blooming over by some trees. And the sky is beautiful. It reminds me of those time that your laughing so hard, tears start to slide down your cheeks. It’s a cheery and smooth color, the sun makes it bright. There isn’t a single cloud in the sky, but that’s okay. A cloud would distract me from the beauty of the blue.”

Cass paused and pressed an inch closer to Dean. “Never mind,” he whispers, “Something much more beautiful and gorgeous is already distracting me.”

“What?” A breath escapes Dean.

“You, Dean Winchester. You.”

Cass lightly traced Dean’s top lip with his thumb and gently skimmed over the scars. Dean closed his eyes, halfway between being blessed with the touch of Castiel and crying from what he felt inside. Dean had always been the disappointment in the family. He disappointed himself for not going back into Sammy’s room quick enough to save his mom. He disappointed his father for taking too long to get to baby Sammy so that his father couldn’t tend to his mom. And to add to that, he woke up in a hospital room blind. Sam was the only person who he felt like he hadn’t disappointed, but he felt like he was a curse to his younger brother. He could feel the stares as they walked down the sidewalk somewhere. He knew Sam cleaned up his house and moved small tables and chairs out of the rooms Dean would walk in so it was easier for him to move around. Sam deserved to have a normal big brother who could care for him and help him, not the other way around.

“How could you say that?” Dean said, a tinge of bitterness.

“What?”

“That I’m beautiful. More beautiful than the perfect blue sky.”

“Because you are Dean, I believe in you and I believe you are a startling sight of beauty.”

“To tell you the truth Cas, I’m the clouds you don’t see. I wait and wait, wait for the beauty to shine through and hid the ugly, gnarly truth of who I truly am. I’m the calm before the storm.”

“And that’s what is beautiful about you.”

The last sentence felt like a physical blow to Dean’s abdomen. Dean moved back and pushed Cass away from him. His whole life he had been rejected by significant others and loves ones and friends, what made this any different? The only difference was that Dean was rejecting Cass before Cass could reject him. Dean turned around, the rejection he had displayed to Cass was bouncing back and damaging him more than he wished. He let out a soft and shirt whistle for Jess to come. Her wet nose nuzzled his hand shortly after. Dean placed his hand on top of Jess' s head.

"Lead. Kitchen." The dog obediently obeyed and led Dean through the twist and turns of Cass's organized chaos. Dean remembered when he had first opened the whimpering box and was greeted by a barely trained sight dog. She had leapt into his arms before the box had been completely opened. It has been a very obnoxious surprised that Dean hadn't expected at all. It has spooked him at first to be suddenly attacked with licks and paws, but in that moment, he had immediately bonded with his new dog. Jess had taken her to classes after her foster home had done the basic training, but Dean was needed so he and his dog could be trained together and get used to commands and having each other. Jess, his dog, had been the last to graduate since she had always had problems concentrating when other puppies were around. But now, Dean never would have guessed she was a slow learner and was once a wild dog that couldn't be contained. Now she was fully trained and even knew what Dean needed even without him speaking a command. The floor changed from the polished wooden planks to the cold tiles that made the bottom of his feet sting. Jess stopped and Dean reached his other hand out to find the high chair he had sat on earlier. He sat down and wrapped his hand around his cold mug filled with bitter coffee. Bitter black coffee that reflected the way he felt on the inside. Bitter and black like the atmosphere he was breathing in when he had woken up on the most life-changing day of his life.

“Dean.” 

It was a slight whisper, but it was there. Castiel’s pure innocent voice through the dark voices of Dean’s head. His voice was soft instead of sharp, the way Dean had expected after he had been rejected. Cass had been there for Dean since Jess’s funeral, even before hand, but Dean hadn’t ever been there for Cass. He hadn’t done anything to help the man who made his lungs squeeze to the point he can’t breathe when he hears his voice. Nothing to help the man who made his heart flutter with excitement with each breath and sigh. The man he loved but couldn’t even tell him that.

“What.” Dean replied.

“You know it’s alright, right? I don’t expect anything more from you right now than a friend. It’s alright if I make you uncomfortable, I make most people do. Just tell me, alright?” Cass said, still soft.

“No, it’s not y-“ The phone rang.

Dean looked up and tilted his head to find the direction of his phone He got up and walked to the end of his counter and felt his phone vibrating from the loud ringing sounds. He opened his flip phone and put it up to his ear.

“Hello?” He asked cautiously.

“Dean! It’s nice to hear from you again. I jus-“

“Sammy? What are you calling about this early in the morning?”

“Well I was about to tell you.” Sam sighed. “I…I was going through Jess’s stuff and I found a box in her closet.”

“I’m sorry Sammy. You can wait to do it and I can help you.”

Sammy sighed again, but this time Dean could hear his brother shaking either with sobs or shock that the love of his life was gone forever. “No, it’s alright Dean, I have to do this. I should do it. The box I found has your name on it.”

“What?” Dean whispered. He could feel Cass walking closer to him and suddenly felt Cass’s soft hand on his bare arm that was craned up to his ear with a phone. He turned his head towards Cass, acknowledging the kind gesture. “What’s in it?” He continued.

“I don’t know, I didn’t open it. It’s your gift from her, I respect that.” Sammy paused. “There was a card on top too.”

Dean froze and could feel the hairs standing up on the back of his neck. Jess had written a note with a box to Dean. Like a suicide note. It reminded him of the note his dad had left for him in Braille and a newly blind Dean had to take a handgun out of his father’s mouth. A single tear rolled down his cheek only to be caught by Cass’s soft thumb rubbing it away and replacing the cold trail with warmth.

“Have you read it?” Dean whispered.

“Yes.” Sam replied. The lonely word was caught in the back of Sam’s throat.

“Did-Did she…?”

“No. It was your next Christmas gift she had been saving for you.”

Dean let out a sigh of relief. Cass leaned up to his ear. “Ask him about Naomi.”

Dean shifted so Cass had an ear up to the phone too, but he couldn’t get too close or his Cochlear implant would bother him.

“Oh Sam, I have a question. Are you working on a case right now?” Dean asked. Cass’s hot breath hit Dean’s neck.

“Yeah, I almost always am.” 

“Do you have a case against someone called Naomi? A woman?”

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone line.

“How do you know her name.”

“She was looking for you, but ended up here. She-“

“Wait, Dean she was at your house? You need to get out of there now.” Sam started shuffling around but the panic in his voice was still very clear. Dean could fell Castiel shifting uncomfortably next to him and the room froze with unease.

“Wait, Sam, what did she do? Did she steal something? Kidnap someone?”

“No, she murdered someone.”


	6. Chapter 6: Light Showers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Holidays!! Sorry for the super late update, school has been stressing me out and I've gotten into dog rescue(takes up alot of my free time especially at night when I would usually write).  
> I also just found out how to use bold and italicize on here so I just wanted to let you know bold and italicized are Dean's thoughts, I'll go back in earlier chapters to change them when I have some free time.  
> Here's my tumblr, I might add some extra insider and some fanart: https://be-sketchy.tumblr.com/  
> If you have any questions feel free to ask!! I'm also going to be adding a few "facts" about the characters, setting, or scenes in the end notes for a little bit of an insider to hint at things that have and/or will happen, so be on the look out!  
> -Beth <3

**Chapter 6:Light Showers**

      ** _No, she murdered someone. No, she murdered someone. No, she murdered someone._**

     Cass watched the colors drain from Dean’s face to the point where even his eyes weren’t as bright as they had been. Dean leaned on the counter heavily. Cass put his arm out to steady Dean and found Dean was sweating but his skin was cool to the touch.

     “Thanks Sammy.” Dean said before hanging up and tossing his phone onto his counter.

     “Dean? Dean are you alright?” Cass wrapped his arm around Deans waist and threw Deans arm over his shoulder just in time.

     The world seemed to spin to Dean, his skull throbbed under his skin. He felt hot and thirsty, yet his skin was cold. Sweat poured off his face. Dean felt dizzy and suffocated and suddenly there was an arm around him and suddenly his arm was around someone. His eyes fluttered as he fell to his knees. Cass gently touched the side of his face and was speaking to him, but Dean couldn’t make it out. He was still in shock that a murderer had been inches away from. He was being lifted and the arm around his waist was tighter and it took him a few seconds to realize it was Cass, his one and only friend, that was dragging up and keeping him up. His bare toes scraped the tile floor that changed to wood when they reached the living room. Cass carefully zig-zagged through the swept piles of glass and wood with Dean who could barely keep his eyes open. Cass leaned over slightly and slipped Dean off his shoulder and onto his leather couch.

     “Dean? Dean?” Dean could finally make out words even through the sloppiness of Castiel’s accent from being mute. His eyelids fluttered, flicking sweat off his long eyelashes. Cass’s hand was still on the back of Dean’s head as he slowly lowered it to the arm rest and then carefully put his legs up on the couch.

     “Are you alright?” Dean turned his head to the sound of Cass’s voice. He opened his mouth to say something, but his throat was too dry.

     “I’ll get you some water.” Cass’s footsteps disappeared. Dean could feel the cold leather underneath as it stung his skin like ice. Cass soon returned with a glass of water and put it up to Dean’s lips with one hand while the other propped his head forward. Dean took a few sips, feeling his throat immediately feel better.”

     “Thank you. Sorry for the, uhm… fainting.” Dean said after Cass took the glass of water away from his lips to let him breathe.

     “It’s alright. I would normally have the same experience under certain circumstances.” Cass replied. He laid his head down on Dean’s arm and was gazing gently at Dean. It was silent in the house except for the occasional pants from Jess and the faint sound of birds chirping. _**This is perfect, I want to wake up to this for the rest of my life.**_ Dean blushed at the thought but chuckled anyways, as if he wanted Cass to see his blush although his guest was already counting his freckles.

     “What?” Cass whispered.

     “I’m sorry.”

     “For what?”

     “For being rude earlier after Naomi stopped by.” Dean said. He started to sit up as his head cleared up, but didn’t dare move Cass’s hand or head off him. He enjoyed the soft touch more than he should. He swung his legs off the side of the couch and “looked” in the direction of Cass, hoping he was meeting Cass’s gaze with his own but knew it was unlikely.

     “Don’t worry about it. I’m used to it.” Cass responded. Dean could hear and feel the heartbreak Cass had endured in the past. His whole life he had been rejected by classmates, partners, neighbors, employers, and once even his own dad. Being disabled had ruined his life. Or what he had experienced. Even though he knew Cass hadn’t been deaf for a long time, he lost his job, his friends, and his voice. And hearing the past to his new friend was more heartbreaking than his own. He wanted to always stay with Cass, to ensure he had a beautiful and flourishing life ahead of him. He thought long and hard about what his heart was telling him to do and eventually followed it.

     “Cass? Will you go on a date with me?” He could feel the shock in the room. Dean Winchester, the man who always followed his head finally followed his heart. Cass sat up a little bit, blown back by the unexpected question.

     “Yes. Yes. Of course. When?”

     “Now.” Dean answered without hesitation.

     “What? Now? Where?” Cass said. There was a hint of panic in his voice.

     “Here, I’ll show you.” He stood up, all evidence of the fainting had evaporated away as Cass laid his head on Dean and Dean fought the temptation to stroke his hair. He started walking towards his back door and it didn’t take long for Cass to catch on and lead him there to avoid the swept piles that still lay askew on the floor. Dean held on to Cass’s arms but decided that wasn’t enough for him and slid his hand down until he could intertwine their fingers. His rough and scratchy fingers clashed against Cass’s soft and small ones. They fit together unnaturally, but the curves of their fingers fit perfectly. He squeezed slightly to make sure Cass was there, that it was all real. That the blushes weren’t from a random heat in the room but from a real person who he could reach out to and be found. He needed proof that he lost his breath when he heard his voice because there was a real person there that was somehow in love with him. He wanted to make sure the feelings were real, images of Liza and Ben were still in mind, of how much he loved him and cared for them and put things in place for them but was still rejected in the end because he was “too much to handle” and a “little unstable” as if he was a horse that still needed to be broken. He wasn’t a horse, but he was broken.

     Dean walked for a few seconds before he stopped, reached out, and opened the glass sliding door on the back of his house, almost directly across from the front door. He didn’t have shades since the sun didn’t bother him, so he just slid open the door and stepped out. It was chilly outside but bearable, they hadn’t had snow yet and Dean hoped they weren’t going to have a white Christmas like they had last year. His feet were quickly muddy from the moist dirt as he continued to walk. Dean knew exactly where he was going and how to get there without counting the steps for turns, the path was just naturally burned into his mind. Cass quickly shut the glass door and jogged to catch up to Dean.

     “Dean? Where are we going? Brr, it’s a little chilly, are you feeling alright? Dean?” His hot breath hit the back of Dean’s neck and ironically sent chills down his spine.

     “I’m fine. We can turn around if you don’t want to go, but you’ll regret it. We’re almost there, come on.” There was a flirtatious tone to his voice, almost daring. He sped up a little more, ignoring the small decline to his destination. Cass reached out, his hand holding tightly onto Dean’s sleeve, as if to slow down, but Dean didn’t. He suddenly stopped. He heard a slight gasp from Cass and felt his soft fingers tighten around his a little. He stood there and let Cass take in the view.

     Dean had come up with a tradition to do with Rowena. Whenever he missed his mother and couldn’t go see her grave that was two hours away, he would plant a flower in his very own backyard. In front of him was a massive flower garden he had built and helped flourish for the past two years. There were bright yellows and reds, blues and greens, even a few ferns that held it all together. Dean paused to let Cass take in the surprising sight that Dean often didn’t let people see. He was used to being rejected so he had built walls around his soft side, lots of walls. Cass was the first one to be let in that didn’t climb or break down those walls, just walked through the front door.

     Dean had never seen his garden, though he could feel it and Rowena described them to him when they went to pick them out. He knew his way around every twist and turn the flowers naturally made and he knew what each flower was and where they were. He knew the colors and structure but was never able to see for himself. But he wanted Cass to see. Sam hadn’t even seen his garden, but there was something about Cass that showed Dean that even the toughest to break had a soft side. Dean stepped down the two steps and felt the hairs on the ack of his neck stand up with satisfaction when the dried leaves and twigs crunched under his feet. His feet were toughened from two years of coming out into the backyard barefoot that even the sharpest of rocks in the gardened bothered him. The soft earth comforted his injured foot. He didn’t care that his bandage was getting slightly wet and dirty from the moist ground, instead he welcomed it and put his weight heavier into his hips and feet. He could feel Cass following behind him and reaching out to nearby flowers. He felt sorry for Cass’s feet, not even thinking about getting him dirty since he was so used to it.

     “Tarrow.” Dean said, slowing down his pace to reach down and feel the tall, skinny stem and a cluster of flowers at the tips. Rowena told him they were yellow, yellow like the sun. Dean had once asked her to describe what yellow looked like without using the word yellow, but she was wordless. It had been many years since Dean had seen yellow. Yellow and blue and green and red and orange and now he couldn’t see those colors playing a part in Cass’s appearance. He wanted to see if his eyes were hazel or brown or green or blue. Or what shade. But he couldn’t, and he felt ashamed that Cass couldn’t be adored by him. Thoughts overwhelmed him of Cass being with someone else at the grocery store or walking in a park or going to the movies. Being with someone else who could see and understand Cass through sign language and admire his body. That someone else not being Dean.

     “It’s beautiful.” Cass stumbled through the garden, his feet leaving small indentions in soft dirt. “It’s like the horizons in your backyard.” He could here Cass panting and could feel the amazement leaking off him. “How had I not noticed?”

     Dean chuckled. He reached his hand out and felt trumpet-like shapes. He knew those were his Day Lilies. They were one of the first flowers he had gotten since Rowena told him they were nearly impossible to kill so it would be easier to handle for a beginner. He had grown to like the unique shape and imagined the colors on them as best as he could. “It’s a little difficult to see them unless you come outside. The house is at the top of a hill and the garden is at the bottom of it. It’s a little bit of a walk so you don’t really notice you’re going downhill.”

     “What are these?” Leaves rustled together and twigs snapped. Dean turned towards the sound. “What do they look like?” He chuckled. There was a pause and then a chuckle from Cass and Dean thought it was the most glorious sound he had ever heard. It was airy and quiet, but it was the purest form of joy Dean had ever experienced. He wondered if Cass crinkled his nose when he laughed.

     “Sorry, I forgot. They are lower to the ground that some of these. They look red or orange towards the cent and yellow on the end of the petals. They seem a little…dull now, like they are as bright as they could potentially be,”

     “Those sound like my blanket flowers. They can bloom all year round, I’m supposed to weed some of them out to help them grow healthy. I just haven’t done with everything…” Dean swallowed the rest of his sentence with a dose of frigid air and a sprinkle of memories he wouldn’t be able to make. The unsettling reminder of Jess, the accident, the proposal that was too late, Dean shattering everything he could touch, the funeral, Cass. If he hadn’t sobbed endlessly for the past few days the reminder would’ve made him cry, but he was past the point of grief and was enveloped in emptiness.

     “It’s alright Dean. I understand.” Cass walked over to Dean, his steps in an uneasy pattern as he tried to avoid twigs and rocks. “It’s okay. It’s okay.” He placed his hand on Dean’s shoulder, sending the same electric shock through Dean, triggering pleasure where Dean didn’t want it. He shrugged his shoulders but Castiel didn’t move his hand and didn’t move. Dean turned to face Cass, but he was so quiet it was hard for him to pinpoint exactly where Cass was standing. Until Cass finally breathed out and his hot breath hit Dean’s ear. Dean turned so suddenly, the electric shock still charging him to the point he was jittery, the tip of his nose brushed Cass’s. But neither of them moved. Dean thought his heart would burst out of his chest any moment, it was going so fast. He started rubbing his thumb against his fingers, trying to calm himself down. He felt like he needed to say something, anything to break the silence.

     “Cass, I- “Cass clashed his soft lips harshly against Deans. Neither of them pulled back, but neither pursued the other. Their lips never parted and the only other physical contact between the two men was Cass’s hand laying gently on Dean’s shoulder. Dean never closed his eyes, but he could feel the intimacy and hoped Cass had his eyes closed. They finally pulled away and Dean rested his forehead on Cass’s, having to slightly bend his neck down to meet the inch difference in their height. Cass slowly slid his hand up to Dean’s hair, locking it between his fingers for reassurance. Dean could swear he heard a small prayer slip from Cass but wasn’t sure. He was more distracted with the fact that it had started to rain. It started with a droplet landing on the tip of Dean’s nose until another fell and another and another and soon Dean’s hair started to droop and plaster down to his forehead and droplets started rolling down his neck and chest and god he could feel his shirt becoming so thin it was like he wasn’t wearing one at all.

     “I though there weren’t any clouds.” Dean whispered. Rain droplets sneaked between his lips, moistening them.

     “I’m sorry.” Cass whispered back.

     “No need.” And that was all that had to be said. Hands started grabbing hungrily and the space between them became nonexistent. Their lips were colliding endlessly, and their tongues mashed together to an unspeakable rhythm that was being driven by lust and adrenaline. Fingers tugged and clawed at hair and skin or softly cupped a cheek. The rain stayed in a steady downfall, but the wind picked up and blew against Dean and Cass. Dean could feel Cass shivering, but both ignored it. The cold weather had no impact on the heat they were creating as they discovered each other’s body and limits and tastes and sweet spots all without taking their clothes off. Cass’s lips were so soft Dean wanted to feel them all over his body, and they tasted so sweet and bitter, like a mixture between honey and coffee. Dean pulled back, gasping for air and leaving Cass confused and eager for more. He leaned back forward and started sucking on Cass’s jaw and slowly licking small circles onto his skin before nipping it softly with his skin. He went down to the side of his neck, repeating his ritual that he started doing religiously. The feeling of having Cass at his fingertips and being able to do anything to please the deaf man as he wanted all while having Cass’s permission and kisses as rewards sent Dean to an all new high. He was floating on the soft clouds but as soon as the blood rushed the top of Cass’s skin and intensified the heat, Dean didn’t even notice it was raining. His mind started to swim in lust and hormones and intimacy. He couldn’t feel the droplets, all he felt was Cass and his lips and his hands and his hair and his skin and that was all he cared about.

      ** _Fucking beautiful._**

     He lolled his tongue over Cass’s new hickey and dragged it pleasurably to his Adam’s apple before softly biting it then kissing it. Cass moaned and gasped and that made Dean hungry for even more. His fingers wrapped around the soft black hair and tugged lightly while the others crept up under the hem of Cass’s shirt. His kisses went lower and lower.

     “Dean…wait- “Too late. Dean nipped at Cass’s collarbone before he realized it was Cass’s sweet spot and that he was super sensitive. Cass’s knees buckled, and he started to fall backwards into the mud, bringing Dean with him, unable to untangle from their intimacy before the fall. But Dean didn’t mind.

     “Oomph!” Cass gasped. Dean held the back of Cass’s head to prevent it from banging into the earth. He didn’t want to fall on top of his new lover, so he stuck his other arm out and caught himself in a one-handed push-up stance. Cass shifted his hips beneath Dean until Dean naturally fell between his legs and their ankles tangled together and not once did Dean stop from sucking and biting his new prize. Their bodies slid in the muds as Dean lowered himself to his forearms and moved back up to taste the sweet lips ready to give him his prize. He pressed himself lower, feeling every inch of his body fit into every dip and curve of Cass and how satisfying it was for their bodies to fit together like puzzle pieces. Cass slipped his hands under Dean’s shirt, digging his nails into the blind man’s shoulder blades for a better grip and the other explored his chest. Dean wished so badly, **_hell I would sell my soul,_** to see Cass. To see him soaked in pleasure and need. He wanted to see the markings he left on him to claim Cass as his. He wanted to see the bloody streaks on his back, he wanted to see Cass’s body and kiss every inch, to see Cass drenched to the point it seemed he wasn’t wearing clothes. He wanted it so badly he dug deeper into the sweet lips as if it would give the resolution Dean wanted. His vision would never come back, and a deep part of his mind wanted to stop and cry and yell at Cass and push everyone away because he wouldn’t be able to adore Cass for everything he was. But his body didn’t care. His body told him to strip them both down to their bare skin and fuck Cass until the sun started to peak through the trees from the next morning. It wanted to cradle Cass and kiss and feel and bite every inch that dared to be exposed to Dean’s hungry and ferocious mouth. Mud began to soak into Dean’s pants and he was sure it had soaked Cass. Their kisses become longer to sustain the pleasure and moment if they could, but the cold began to creep down into their bones and they both began to shiver, Cass more violently than Dean. Dean pulled away reluctantly, placing one last, soft kiss upon his lover’s lips before taking his first breath in minutes. The rain slowed but the pair still didn’t notice as Dean listened to Cass’s panting and heart beat and he was sure Cass was gazing at him. **_Just hope it’s with good intentions._**

     “Dean Winchester…You cease to amaze me.” Cass panted and leaned his head back, the rain ricocheting off his face and back onto Dean. Dean chuckled at himself. I cease to amaze me too. They started to feel the rain again but neither wanted to move. Dean could feel his scars start to itch from the dirt on them and there was a bitter taste of earth in his mouth and his feet and neck were stinging from the cold. He wanted to stay there as long as time would allow, but he didn’t want Cass to get sick from the cold. He sat up slowly, keeping a hand on Cass for balance against the slippery mud and as a land-marker so he could help Cass up. Once he stood up and was on steady feet, he reached his other hand down to Cass who was already sitting up. Dean felt his muddy hand grab his and he hoisted him up, a little harder than needed but he didn’t care, he got to feel Cass pressed against him one last time before the rain became unbearably cold.

     “Let’s head inside, you can use my shower to get the dirt off, I’ll grab a towel and you can use some of my clothes while yours are in the laundry.” Dean brushed his hand lightly against Cass’s cheek and could feel the smile plastered on his face.

      ** _I don’t need eyes to know how he feels._**

     “Sounds good to me, lead the way.” Cass backed-up and then firmly grabbed Dean’s hand in his.

     Dean moved his head back towards Cass, as if to look at him and then started to walk back to the house. Dean loved the rain and often stood in the middle of it just to feel the droplets, occasionally he would let Jess out with him and sing Ramble On or Eye of the Tiger as he used his feet to keep tempo in muddy puddles. The bandage on his foot was ruined and started to unravel from his foot, exposing the cuts and bruises. A stinging sensation started to take over his feet and crawled up his leg. He paused to rip the bandage off and kept walking. He lifted his unoccupied hand in front of him and kept walking, waiting for the slick surface of wet glass. A few seconds later he felt it and found the handle to the sliding glass door and opened it. He stepped onto the cold and dry wood flooring. His toes were useless as they slid from the mud. He tugged Cass in front of him to navigate the way to his bedroom. He let go of Cass’s hand when he felt the familiar carpet under his feet, careful not to worsen his injuries. The thought of smearing blood on his bedroom floor made Dean want to gag and he quickly got rid of the image. Jess brushed up against him to let him know that she was there, and he heard Cass’s footsteps on the tile in his bathroom. Dean walked around the corner of his bed to the dresser in the corner. He placed his hand on the top and counted until he was in the second drawer, grabbed two pairs of sweatpants, his favorite shirt, and an extra shirt for Cass. He balanced the clothing in one hand and used his other to close the drawer and open the next one down to grab two towels.

     “Dean, do you have another shower?” Cass asked. Dean turned around and waked towards his voice, keeping the clothes and towels in front of him, careful to not let them get dirty.

     “No, but I’ll wait. You need it more than I do.” Dean blushed and realized what he had said could’ve sounded offensive. “Not that-not that you know… smell or anything. I-I just thought since you were underneath…” Dean stopped when Cass lightly touched his hands and took the pile of clothes from him. He heard them be thrown against his mattress. He turned towards the sound in confusion but it all became clear and Cass slipped a hand onto Deans cheek and held it there as he kissed Dean. He kissed him passionately but soft enough to let Dean know this was just the beginning. Dean closed his eyes even though it didn’t make a difference to him. He felt hands at the hem of his shirt and start to lift it until it was over his head and thrown on the floor. He returned the favor to Cass, not wanting it to go faster than it needed to be. Dean could feel Cass’s eyes gazing over the bare skin, before his hands started to slip Dean’s pants off.

     “Cass?... Is this-is this a good idea?” Dean whispered. He brought one hand up to his own face and rubbed his lips to hide his nervousness.

     “Shhh…” Was all Cass responded with, not including the kisses and sucks and licks and touches. Dean threw his head back as Cass sucked on his hip bone, welcoming the blood to rise before kissing it goodbye. He heard a buckle become undone and pants come off. His mind raced with excitement and nervousness and looked back in the direction he last knew Cass was. He stood only in his boxers in front of a man he barely knew yet felt completely at ease that he was doing this right and that Cass was who he had been looking for his whole life. Suddenly out of the darkness fingertips brushed Dean’s abs and found their place along his boxers, momentarily tracing over his new hickeys. Soon his boxers were off and he heard Cass follow suit.

     Dean could hear the shower squeak as it was turned on and he could already feel the steam rushing out of the bathroom door and into the small bedroom. He hoped Jess and made her way out to find food or lay down somewhere undisturbed. Cass appeared almost out of nowhere to Dean and gently grabbed his hand after placing a gentle kiss on the blind man’s scarred neck. Dean wanted so badly to do things to Cass he had never done with anyone else but stuck to Cass’s plan and followed him to the bathroom. Cass helped him into the slippery shower and Dean immediately felt relaxed when the burning water sooth his scars and foot. He felt Cass carefully slide into the shower behind him and turned around to face him. The water washed away blood and dirt as the two lovers washed each other with a soapy rag. After they were clean, they remained in the shower. Dean dared not get distracted as he and Cass kissed every inch of each other under the running water until the early hours of the night.

     Dean realized that being blind wasn’t an obstacle to overcome or a boundary between Cass and him, it was simply another trait that made him different and beautiful in Cass’s eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -Cass loves social outings and his two favorite are pride fest and "save the bees" protests. Dean on the other hand isn't fond of them and thinks protests are useless. Dean prefers to travel and explore natures and historical sites but hasnt been able to see much.
> 
> -Dean listens to classic rocks and his favorite song is "Ramble On" by Led Zeppelin. Castiel prefers soft indie music and his favorite song is "I Get Overwhelmed" by Dark Rooms. He doesn't listen to music very often, hardly at all, but when he does he usually pulls up that song since its the clearest and best sounding song to him with his implant.
> 
> -Cass has an unknown heart defect/disorder and a cochlear implant
> 
> -Dean suffers from anxiety and PTSD which causes him to frequently have panic attacks. He also can't stand the idea of killing something and gets extremely queasy and anxious around blood (opposite from show)
> 
> -Cass is a feminist and supports feminity in men, is openly gay and once worked at a care home for the LGBT+, and always participates in "save the bees" protests or just protests in general. He is very aware of problems with society and tries to fix everything even if he can't.
> 
> -Cass's favorite thing to wear is his "save the bees" t-shirt (he really likes bees) and his flower crown(oh but who makes it...). Dean's favorite thing to wear is his Led Zeppelin t-shirt, sweatpants, and flannel that Sam had accidentally left over and never retrieved.
> 
> -On this day, Dean woke up around 10ish, Naomi came around 11:30-45 ish, their first date is at 1ish and their shower starts at 2ish. 
> 
> -Symbolism: Cass is deaf in the story because in the show, he seems to ignore what the majority think unless it has to do with the Winchesters especially Dean. Dean is blind because he doesn't see what Cass sacrifices for him in it's full capacity and, come on, he's blind that he is hella gay for Cass and Cass is hella gay for him.


	7. Update

Hey guys! I'm not quite sure how many of ya'll have stuck with the story but I know it has been a very long time since an updated chapter. I have been stressed out with school but on top of that, my Microsoft Word apparently has to be paid for?? I have never paid for Word before so I honestly don't know whats going on but apparently I have to pay monthly to get it back up. That is also where I stored this story. I have a chapter and a half done that aren't uploaded and I can't even open them to copy and paste. I Just recently found this out so I'm still trying to figure it out. I don't have a great job so I've been searching for a new one or a second one and it is the hardest thing I have ever done. I'm still going to try and get the other chapter back but I might write a new one in replace of it :/ It's been a while since i typed it so I don't remember what was in it but i remember being very pleased with it. Hang in there and I'll update soon! Also hit me up with some comments, I want to know what you guys think! 


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